Star Trek Retribution
by darkdaz
Summary: A scientist stood at a dark, metal console filled with glowing lights and instrument panels.  He looked out of the observation deck toward a bright, glowing star, wondering intently whether the experiment he was about to conduct would succeed or fail


Star Trek: Retribution

Darren Pude

**Foreword:**

This section is my answer to all the questions I am invariably asked when I tell people that I am writing a book. Questions like "Why?" or "Why about Star Trek?" Finally, instead of repeating myself, I'll direct them to this, and answer their questions all at once. The most common question, why, is a difficult one to answer. You see, I don't even know why I wrote this book. The best way I can think of to explain it is that I felt a 'creative burning' inside myself, a longing that I had to get this story down on paper. It's not often that I have a creative outburst like this one, and quite frankly, I wasn't going to waste it. Another reason I wrote this was that I simply wanted to see if I could. I'd always wondered what it was like to write a book, how long it took, what it entailed, etc. etc. Here was my big chance to find out. I thought it might be fun as well, though in all honesty, it wasn't always. But I had the good fortune to have gotten far enough into it, by the time it stopped being fun, that I couldn't bring myself to give up on it. So I persevered, and now, to my shock, it is done, and I am sitting here in an armchair writing this foreword.

My decision to make this a Star Trek story was simple. It had all the ingredients, technology, and background that I needed. On the same note, I did my best to keep the story modern and fluid. This is no "Beam me up Scotty" space-yarn. I'm a fan of Star Trek, Star Wars, and many other sci-fi settings, but Star Trek just fit the best, given what I was trying to do. If you don't quite get it yet, then read the book. I'll bet you'll understand by the time you're done. Anyways, enough of the self-involvement. Enjoy, I know I did.

**Thanks to:**

My Family: help in keeping me going on this project when I lost interest…

(you'll notice that now the Sovereign warps around Federation space at low warp speeds, a regulation which I was not aware of until recently) and also for coming to see Star Trek: Nemesis with me, since I needed to find out what happened to Data before I could decide whether to write him into the story or not…

My compatriots on the Bridge Commander forums for their input and encouragement, Retribution would not be the book it is without their help…

Gene Roddenberry, for creating Star Trek in the first place, without which this book would obviously not have been possible.

Prologue

A scientist stood at a dark, metal console filled with glowing lights and instrument panels. He looked out of the observation deck toward a bright, glowing star, wondering intently whether the experiment he was about to conduct would succeed or fail, and what the consequences of his actions would be. It was possible that he would bring glory to his leaders, or disgrace. He was not sure which to expect, and not even sure which to hope for, given the immense power of the object that he planned to create. Indeed, uncertainty seemed to be the only certainty at this moment in time. As he reflected further, he realized that there was at least one certainty. The culmination of more than ten million years of research was about to be reached, for better or worse. He was only an operator, relatively free of any guilt or prestige that might come of the experiment, but he understood vaguely that the actions that he would be ordered to carry out would have universe-changing implications. This scientist considered all of this as he looked out the huge window toward a star. It was a very beautiful object, a bright, burning ball of flame that would have blinded him, if it weren't for the light dampeners that were currently engaged on the window. As it was, the star was becoming painful to look at, and he looked away, back toward his instrument panel. He stood and waited.

Another being stood on the observation deck of a different vessel, with rather different emotions as he surveyed the star, and all the various spacecraft that were making last-minute preparations. "It was much too late for such things," he thought nervously. All of them were carrying out urgent tasks, and if any one of them failed to carry them out, the consequences would be disastrous. Especially for him, because he was assuming full responsibility for what was about to occur. As coordinator of this project, his superiors in government would be very displeased with him if he failed. He was out on a limb, hoping to change his part of the universe in a very big way. So big, in fact, that few beings in all of history had ever attempted such a thing.

"We're almost ready," reported someone at his side. "We'll be ready to activate in a half hour."

"Good," the coordinator said. "All that we have worked so hard to achieve—"

"is at hand," his assistant said. "It is our time of reckoning."

The coordinator nodded, and took stock of everything that he could see from the observation deck. His view was considerable, his spaceship carefully positioned to give maximum visibility toward the star. Anything he couldn't see from his current viewpoint, he could see via cameras and sensors positioned on the other side of the sun.

First and most obvious to him was the star. It was a fairly ordinary star, a mainstream, average, fusion reactor, calmly generating thousands of terawatts of energy every second, much as it had for the last billion or so years. It would have been quite content to do so for a few more billion years. However, this was not to be. The star was about to change drastically. In any case, it had been chosen simply because it was stable, and far away from any inhabited worlds. Surrounding the star were at least two dozen small maintenance craft of various makes and models, which were largely inconsequential. Of far greater concern to him were the three hundred large devices that they were adjusting. These devices were quantum resonators, packed to the bursting point with huge coils and power generators, and finely tuned specifically to the star they were surrounding.

Each of the three hundred resonators was positioned at a precisely chosen location, each of them fifty kilometers from the star's corona. They were arranged in a spherical pattern, and formed a huge external perimeter around the star. If any one of them were even slightly out of position, the experiment that was about to be conducted would fail. Many safeguards had been taken, but there were dozens of things that could malfunction or fail. He would just have to hope that they didn't.

Just outside of that perimeter were three hundred sixty more devices, intended as a safeguard in case the experiment did fail. They were massive containment field generators, designed to keep in any energy that might bleed off of the star. The system was unlikely to be able to contain the kind of energy that the experiment might produce, but it would give the nearby ships enough time to evacuate. At least, that was the plan.

At this point, the maintenance ships began to move away, and the coordinator realized that his half hour was almost up. The reckoning was at hand. He hoped that their efforts would measure up to the task.

"Operation control to all vessels," he said. "Evacuate the experimental perimeter immediately. Stand by for activation within three minutes."

Perhaps it was just him, but it seemed that the maintenance ships accelerated their movements as they began to migrate out of the area.

Captain Kossuth of the Tholian Empire lay in wait close to the star, his surveillance vessel cloaked and hidden from these strange aliens' prying eyes. While he was uncomfortable being so close to the star, its radiation insured that there was no possible way his ship could be detected. The warriors on his bridge looked perplexedly out at the same alien maintenance ships that the alien being had observed, moments before. Kossuth's orders were to determine the purpose of this strange construction that had been installed around the star. As yet he had been unsuccessful, and he lay in wait, hoping for the aliens to give him some clue, that he might leave this honorless mission and return to the Empire. It was his hope that he might eventually join a fighter wing, and combat the Ondrineans, the blood enemies of his people. So, while he felt his energies would be better spent in other ways, he knew that he would not get that opportunity unless he succeeded here. So the Tholian watched and waited.

"We are ready to begin," the coordinator reported to a newly formed assembly of other beings, who had joined him on the observation deck to view the experiment. "If we succeed, the ultimate power source will be created, enough to power the universe until the end of time. I will now give the order to commence."

An expression very much like fear appeared on his face, as he pressed a button, and said, "Operations control, you may begin the experiment."

The scientist pressed a button on his control console, and activated the quantum resonators. A bright blue, beautiful energy web spread out with a thousand beautiful tendrils stretching from resonator to resonator, forming a stunning blue shield across the entire star. From certain other devices, some of the blue energy was channeled into a large beam, and shot directly into the star.

The scientist, hardly able to wrench his eyes from the window, forced them back down to his instrument panel. He monitored the energy fields, the field stress levels, and breathed a sigh of relief. Everything was working perfectly. Suddenly, his console beeped, and a small scan appeared on one of the nearby display screens. The field was destabilizing, and a small, unexpected mass had been discovered inside the experimental perimeter. Through the background radiation, his sensors had managed to acquire a profile view of the object, and with horror the scientist realized that a small vessel was trapped inside. This would render all of his calculations incorrect; the experiment would end in disaster. Already the field stress readings were off the chart. He attempted to abort, but it was far too late, and he knew it. Suddenly, in an energy release of mind-blowing proportions, the star exploded, going supernova. But it was not a normal supernova, as it appeared that the quantum resonators had partially succeeded in their task. A bright blue core formed at the center of the nova, shooting out toward the exploding gas, catching up to it rapidly.

The scientist was now monitoring the energy containment field, and he saw with relief that it seemed to be containing the nova adequately. Then the second, blue, quantum shockwave impacted on the field. It failed instantly, and a vast shockwave of impossible speed and energy blasted outward. He turned to give the order to evacuate, then monitored the shockwave. He saw in disbelief that it was traveling faster than the speed of light. His ship was still turning as it was enveloped in the shockwave, and simply erased from the space-time continuum. All nearby objects suffered the same fate. But, as the government of their people, or, what was left of it, would later discover, the consequences were far greater, and far worse, than any of them could possibly have imagined…

Part I

Evan Grant stood on the peak of the hill, his first officer, Ashley Brightson, at his side. Evan was a strong, charismatic man in his thirties, broad-shouldered, energetic, clean-shaven, and rational. His hair was dark blond, and he was approximately two meters in height. His first officer was a very beautiful golden-haired, blue-eyed, voice of compassion and justice, one that often reminded Evan of his place in the larger scheme of things. She was a tad shorter than he was, but no less fit, or competent.

They were both gazing out over a striking landscape. They were in a range of hills, quite tall, but not quite tall enough to be considered mountains. They were all covered in low, green, plant life that at a distance might be mistaken for grass. Out beyond the hills, low plains could be seen, with taller soft-stemmed plants waving in the cool, pleasant breeze. Beyond the plains, out towards the horizon, even more hills could be seen, rising up to meet the fantastically colored orange sky.

Evan looked about him on all sides, soaking up as much of the scenery as he could. As he did so, his eyes came to rest momentarily upon his first officer, whom he studied for a moment. The soft, orange light from above shaded her features delicately, and the breeze toyed with her hair as it flew by, tossing and turning some of the smaller, looser strands as it went. He felt a certain tenderness for her at that moment, remembering the hardships they had just shared. He shook it off, and returned his attention to the planet, without her even noticing his gaze.

The two officers were rarities in Starfleet, Grant very young for a captain, and Ashley even younger for a first officer. They had achieved their positions through exceptional ability and courage, and were well known and highly respected. Evan and Ashley had only worked together for a year, a short time in Starfleet terms, but they were already a close-knit pair, having already shared decisions more important than those made by far older, more experienced officers.

This was one of the peaceful moments Grant valued as a Starfleet captain, one of the times he could take a moment to marvel at the beauty and justice that he had fought so hard to preserve mere weeks ago. He took one last look at Tantor Seven, and, with an unusual, unnerving feeling that he was not going to return, tapped his comm. badge.

"Sovereign, two to beam up," Grant said.

He and Ashley exchanged glances and tried to burn the image of the landscape into their minds, lest they never see it again. "Energize." Two bright swirls of transporter energy formed around their bodies, pulling them away from a planet that would always remain in their hearts for the great struggle and victory that they had experienced there.

As Evan and Ashley stepped off the transporter pad, Evan nodded to the transporter operator, who nodded deferentially back at him. He walked briskly through the doors into the hallway. "What's our next stop, Commander?" he asked Ashley, who was matching his pace.

"Starbase One, sir," Ashley responded. "After the beating we took from the Sumari, Starfleet decided it would be best to make sure we received full repairs. Personally, I wouldn't mind seeing home again, sir," she said.

"I know exactly how you feel," Evan said. "It's been three years since I've seen Earth, and I'm eager to get back myself. Hopefully, the crew will get a little time to relax as well. They deserve it."

Attempting to prevent him from forgetting himself, as he often did, Ashley added, "You do too, sir, if I may say so. We both came a little close to the edge onboard that Sumari ship. All I can say is that I'm glad that little chapter of history is wrapped up."

Evan grinned at his friend's observations. Their last mission had been a rough one, and he was as happy as she was that it was over. "Yes," he said, "I doubt if the Sumari will be back for a while. Then again, I don't suppose we will be either." He and Ashley entered the turbolift. "Bridge," he said. The small room began to hum, and the lights on the sides of the lift began to blink as the turbolift picked up speed.

"Captain, do you suppose we'll ever get a break from these sorts of assignments? When I signed up, I understood that my career was going to entail a fair amount of danger, and even combat, but I thought I'd end up spending most of my time exploring. On the Sovereign, I've found myself spending a lot more time defending the Federation itself than expanding its borders or exploring space."

"I'm hoping our mission after we repair will entail doing just that. I've always preferred missions that take the Sovereign out of the Federation's backyard, and I agree, it's been far too long since we've had one. But it's then that the real fun starts."

The door to the turbolift slid open and they walked out onto the bridge. Tantor Seven was still on their viewscreen, much as they had left it. The bridge had been partially repaired, and the ceiling lights were back in their sockets, albeit a little scratched and dented. The floor lights had returned to their usual calm blue color, and his officers were all at their stations. He took his seat in the center of the bridge, settling into the leather chair that he had become so accustomed to, and Ashley took hers next to him.

"Course laid in for Earth, sir," said Thomas Hanson, the helm officer.

"Very good, Hanson," said Grant. "Warp four. Engage!"

Hanson tapped his controls, the stars on the viewscreen leapt forward in a beautiful display, and suddenly Evan was that much closer to home.

William McCallister walked out of his quarters briskly, hoping to get to his station a few moments early. The U.S.S. Prometheus was arriving shortly, and he didn't want to miss the sight of that starship docking. After all, it wasn't every day one saw a ship with four warp nacelles. She was in for some basic repairs, and the captain had been reporting some glitches with her new computer system. Really only details, McCallister was surprised that Starfleet had recalled the Prometheus to Starbase One for full-scale repairs. He walked into the turbolift. "Deck twelve," he announced as an ensign walked in.

"Deck fifteen," the ensign added.

McCallister exited the lift first, and continued to the docking bay observation room. It was a large, high-ceilinged chamber with control panels, a few key personnel, and a row of huge windows that overlooked the massive, hollow interior of the starbase. The observation area was designed to allow the control officers to visually oversee the safe docking of Starfleet ships. The windows were somewhat unnecessary now, as sensors could do their jobs quite easily, and with more precision, but they were a throwback from earlier days of space travel. Additionally, they provided a functional backup and a stunning view, so there was no reason to remove them.

As it turned out, he was right on time. At the very moment he was staring out the windows, the massive space doors were sliding open, and the point of the Prometheus' "saucer" section was visible. More and more of the ship came into the light, and soon McCallister could see its four glowing bussard collectors, and the corresponding warp nacelles.

There was a buzz of noise and activity as the docking controllers carried out all the necessary operations to bring the Prometheus safely in. For the moment, the warship was on her own power, sliding slowly in, but soon the controllers would power down the ship and tow her more precisely into position, using a powerful tractor beam. There was no strict need for McCallister to be there, as his shift hadn't started yet, so he simply stood and watched the awesome sight that lay before him.

The hull of the Prometheus was coming into clearer focus, and the romantic curves of her hull were being replaced by the sight of individual plates, welded, riveted, and pushed together to form a single, intricate construct. One gained a certain appreciation for the size of these immense starships when they approached within a distance of mere meters, and McCallister fought a feeling of insignificance as the Prometheus did just that.

"Starfleet Command reports that the Prometheus has maintained comm. silence since leaving the Cardassian border," said Lieutenant John Millishun, the chief operations control officer. "She transmitted the entry codes on a silent datastream, not so much as a word from any of the crew. Sensors are reading life signs and the ship is following standard docking procedures. Incoming on partial thrusters."

"That's odd," McCallister noted, shaken out of his reverie. "No contact from any of the crew?"

"Indeed," Millishun concurred. "I'm not sure exactly what's going on. I suppose it's probably some classified business, I double-checked with command, and they authorized me to let her dock."

The Prometheus appeared huge now, and McCallister was even more impressed with the ship's durability than he had been when she'd left spacedock the first time. The Prometheus was a member of Starfleet's increasingly large fleet of dedicated battleships, a prototype of a very advanced design. She had capabilities that no other ship in the fleet had, and weaknesses to match, as a devastating glitch in her computer system had once demonstrated. The Prometheus had turned on an allied vessel and attacked it, her computer seizing control of the entire ship, and locking out the crew. The incident had nearly started a war. McCallister supposed that the computer glitches she'd been reporting were the primary cause of her recall. Starfleet wanted no chance of a repeat incident.

"She really took a beating, didn't she?" muttered McCallister, examining the scarred, blistered outer hull of the ship. "Light damage? I'd question that analysis."

Millishun nodded, then shrugged his shoulders. "Alright people," he ordered. "Power down the Prometheus, charge up the tractor beam. It's time to shove her into position."

A great many control panels could be heard, operating simultaneously, as the other officers carried out his orders. All appeared to be well, but McCallister noticed that the Prometheus' engines were still glowing. She was still under her own power.

"Sir," said one of the officers, "Our lockdown codes aren't working. The Prometheus has locked us out!"

"What?" Millishun asked, looking up from his controls to examine the Prometheus visually. He saw what McCallister had already, and got to his feet.

"I confirm, sir," said another officer. "The Prometheus has changed her command codes."

"Hail that ship now!" Millishun ordered, angry. "What the hell do they think they're trying to pull?"

McCallister raised his eyebrows, startled. This had just become a strikingly dangerous situation. "Is she speeding up?" he asked, almost positive that he could detect a sudden change in the motion of the Prometheus.

"Sure looks like it!" Millishun said, with alarm. "What's she doing? Full power to the tractor beams," he yelled at an ensign manning a different console.

"Christ," said the lieutenant at the sensor monitors. "I'm reading a huge power build up in her warp core!" Millishun's eyes widened in shocked disbelief, and he ordered, "Engage tractor beams _now_!" But it was too late. Facing straight into the interior of the starbase, her engines flashed bright blue, and the Prometheus went to warp speed.

"E.T.A. to Starbase One?" Evan asked.

"Ten minutes, forty seconds," Hanson said.

Evan nodded, and turned his attention to a datapad that he had sitting on one arm of his chair. He was reading an interesting report when he was interrupted.

"Sir, I'm getting some unusual readings in Earth's vicinity," said commander Daniel Hader, the ship's science officer, looking perplexed. "Very high power emissions coming from Earth's orbit. I won't be able to confirm our readings until we drop out of warp, though," he added, as though he doubted the correctness of his scans. "The long range sensors may be malfunctioning."

Evan looked up from his report, suspecting that the readings were erroneous. The Sovereign's sensors were advanced, but not infallible. Additionally, her systems had recently received a great deal of damage, and were not in perfect working order.

"Very well, Mr. Hader. We'll just have to wait and see," he said. "As soon as we dock, you'll be free to run as many sensor diagnostics as you like."

"Captain, we're approaching Earth," said Hanson. "Dropping out of warp. Starbase One on screen."

As Grant watched, Daniel's eyes widened as he read his instrument panel. Wondering what the cause of his reaction might be, Evan turned to face the viewscreen. When he did so, his expression altered instantly.

"Magnify," said Evan in a shocked voice, rising suddenly from his chair. Ashley's eyes darted from him to the viewscreen as she let out a gasp of surprise. The viewscreen confirmed what the two officers had at first disbelieved. There was an enormous hole in the upper section of the starbase. More startling yet, the cavity's jagged, molten edges continued deep inside. "Dear god," Evan said simply, in disbelief. His mind was racing.

Starbase One was the main base of all Starfleet operations, a titanic space installation of immense size and power. It would have taken almost incomprehensible amounts of energy to create a breach so large, and the damage had strategic implications that the captain did not even want to consider. A small debris field of shattered metal hull plates, power conduits, and other such miscellaneous materials was floating in space, slowly expanding outwards from their source. Sunlight glinted off of them, and formed an eerie, grotesque picture of destruction.

Grant forced himself out of his reverie, and looked about for answers.

"Captain, that hull breach goes clean through the starbase," said Daniel, who was checking and rechecking the ship's sensors. "I'm reading wreckage on the other side of the base, and it's not from the starbase! There are a lot of pieces, but judging by volume I'd say whatever made that hole was the size of a medium cruiser. I'm running scans on the starbase now, sir."

Evan, now standing up and facing the viewscreen, took a deep breath, considering what the situation now required of him. Ashley admired his calm under the circumstances. He wasn't worrying about the shore leave they weren't going to have; he wasn't worried about the Sovereign, whose repairs were clearly going to be put off. All of his focus now centered on rendering any assistance possible to the starbase. "Hail them," Evan said.

"We're getting a response, Captain. It's a weak signal, and audio only," Hanson said, clearly concerned. If the huge starbase could only manage a weak radio signal, it was clearly in severe trouble.

"This is Captain Evan Grant of the U.S.S. Sovereign. How may we be of assistance?" Evan asked briskly. "Admiral Donovan - Starbase 01 - Prometheus went – warp - severe casualties. We'll require the use - any medical facilities you have available, Transport - wounded directly off starbase if possible-" came the fragmented reply.

"Signal them our acknowledgement," Grant ordered. The order was rapidly carried out.

"We're out of transporter range, sir," said Hanson. "We'll have to move within a hundred kilometers to beam through all this interference."

"Energy signatures left and right," Daniel supplemented, nodding.

"Understood," said Evan. "Make it quick, Ensign. Full impulse. Engage!"

Within a minute, the Sovereign was within range, and began transporting wounded personnel into her extensive medical facilities, where the Sovereign's medical staff of thirty Starfleet doctors and nurses attended to them. The Sovereign was a ship built amply in every way, carrying more than a thousand personnel, and, consequentially, her medical staff was larger than any other ship in the fleet.

While all these events took place, Daniel was busy scanning the starbase with his most advanced instruments, and, having completed his examination, reported to the captain the exact status of the base. "Sir, the starbase is four thousand, two hundred and thirty-two crew short of her normal complement," said Daniel. "Main power aboard the starbase is fluctuating, but life support reads as stable. They have evacuated all crew from decompressed sections, and have sealed off the damaged decks to avoid environmental destabilization. There are several wounded still sealed inside damaged sections, but we are beaming them out. That hull breach spans almost forty decks, although most of the crew habitation areas are still intact. The command centers, however, are wrecked, and so are many of the engineering modules. I suspect that on-duty personnel make up most of the casualties."

"Incoming transmission from the U.S.S. Resolute," said Hanson. "On screen."

The screen showed a tall, middle-aged man of considerable muscle on the bridge of a large cruiser.

"Akira class," Ashley whispered in his ear. Evan nodded, and waited for the captain to speak.

"Captain Finnardy of the Resolute here, Captain. I believe I can explain the situation."

"Anything would be more than welcome, Captain," said Evan.

Finnardy nodded, and proceeded to narrate the events that had transpired. "The Prometheus was coming in under comm. silence for repairs, and followed standard docking procedures until she was within ten kilometers of the space doors. Then, she went to warp. Punched that hole clean through the starbase. More than four thousand dead. Now we're trapped inside the starbase until repair crews can clear the spacedock area of debris. We're intact, though, which is more than I can say for the Starbase."

"Do you have any idea what precipitated this event, Captain?" asked Ashley, all business.

"None at all, Commander, but I can't wait to see the reports. Finnardy out." The viewscreen reverted to its depressing angle on Starbase One.

"Incredible," said Daniel. "Just went to warp right outside the starbase? It would take some really interesting engineering to get any Starfleet ship to go to warp on a collision course. The computer is hardwired to deactivate the nacelles if the helm gives that kind of an order, sir."

"Has sickbay got all the wounded yet, Commander?" Evan asked Ashley.

"Looks like it, sir," she replied, tapping a few buttons on her chair and bringing up status readouts. "Starfleet will have to provide the rest of the repair crews, our entire engineering staff could do _nothing_ over there." She sighed, and added, "I recommend we investigate the wreckage of the Prometheus, sir."

"I concur," said Daniel. "Starfleet will be very interested in knowing what happened over there."

"Very well," said Evan wearily. "Take us around the starbase for close range scans."

Hanson deftly maneuvered the Sovereign around the starbase, and into a better position to examine the debris of the Prometheus. "What's the status of the Prometheus, Mr. Hader?" asked Evan.

"Surprisingly good sir," he replied. "It's not as if there is anyone left alive, or that systems are still functioning, but only her outer hull has sustained significant damage. Life support is offline, and she's missing some parts, but I believe that it would be safe to board the vessel, as long as the team wears EV suits," said Daniel. His console beeped insistently, and he turned back to examine it. He spun back to face Evan, then reported, "Sir, I _am_ reading sporadic life signs."

"That's impossible," Evan said. "Maybe those sensor diagnostics are in order after all."

"That's not the half of it, Captain," Daniel went on. "The life signs appear to be flickering in and out of existence. You'd better lead an away team and find out what the hell is going on in there. In light of these sensor readings, I'd recommend you go armed, sir," Daniel said. "Just in case-"

"Thank you, Commander," Grant said, cutting him off.

Evan sighed, and then turned to his first officer. "Ashley, Daniel, Brexton, you're with me," he said. "Have a forensics expert meet us in transporter room three," he went on. "Oh, and have someone bring down five extra-vehicular suits as well. Hanson, you have the bridge." They stepped into the turbolift, and the doors whooshed shut as Hanson took the captain's chair.

Onboard the Prometheus, the five of them swirled into existence and began their mission. Ashley drew her tricorder and began scanning the ship immediately. Evan did the same, and the other officers took out their phasers. Ashley grinned to herself, knowing how much you could tell about someone by which instrument he or she drew first in a hazardous situation. She wondered if they honestly expected to find anything to fight, given the condition of the ship.

"We should split up," Grant said, his voice sounding distant as it was heard through the intercom of the EV suits. "I'll go track down some life signs. Daniel, Brexton and you," he said, indicating his bridge officers and the forensics man, "head down to engineering and determine if the Prometheus is salvageable. Commander Brightson, why don't you go to the bridge and see if you can download the computer logs? Should be some interesting stuff in there."

They all moved off on their respective missions, the low humming of their gravity boots audible as they walked along. Ashley glanced at her tricorder again. The Prometheus was in really pitiful condition. Of course, most other ships in Starfleet wouldn't even be in visible pieces after going through a starbase, but still, this was one tough ship, and she had been brought to her knees.

A few lights still flashed white, lending an eerie effect to the corridor. Little bits of metal were scattered all over the floor, while some bent, broken conduits still squirted oxygen into the deck. The Prometheus had long since depressurized, but life support didn't know that, and continued business as usual. She stepped over a damaged metal beam, and even through the suit she could feel the heat from its burnt end. She heard a noise behind her, and turned, only to see a ceiling panel fall to the ground. Ashley was impressed. The corridor wasn't fully decompressed if there was still enough atmosphere remaining to carry sounds. She came to the turbolift shaft, and found the doors open. No turbolift was present, but nevertheless the doors were open, clearly unaware of that fact. "It's a start," she said to herself.

Ashley deactivated her magnetic boots and floated out into the shaft. Stopping herself lightly against the other side of the shaft, she found a foothold and pushed upward. She had started at deck fifteen, and soon she arrived at the doors to the bridge. Ashley maneuvered onto the small ledge in front of the door. Un-surprisingly, the door did not open when she arrived. She tried to force it, but it would not open, and when she scanned it, her tricorder revealed that the door had been sealed. She drew her phaser and set it to level six, which, she calculated, oughtn't to do too much damage to the ship, while creating a big enough hole for her to enter through.

She aimed, fired, and was propelled backwards into the other side of the shaft. She winced, and then cursed herself for her oversight in not reactivating her suit's magnetic boots. The hole in the door was indeed large enough for her to float through, and so she did. Once she was inside the bridge, she righted herself and reactivated her gravity boots. Looking around, she saw nothing. No crew, no bodies, just a severely damaged bridge with several lights blinking on and off. The viewscreen, to her surprise, was still intact, and functioning, but it showed a view of slowly moving stars, telling her that the Prometheus was adrift and that the sensors had been completely knocked out, even to the point where they couldn't focus on Starbase One, a massive target. The viewscreen merely displayed what was directly in front of it. She clanked her way over to the science console, and flipped up a metal panel to access the tricorder interface. She took hers out, placed it in the socket, and breathed a sigh of relief as data began to flow across the screen. The computer's memory had withstood the impact, albeit at low power and slightly fragmented. In less than a minute, the transfer stopped, and Ashley frowned. There should have been a lot more data in the computer than that.

She took a spare phaser battery out of her suit, and plugged it into the science console. It whirred to life, with bright lights blinking everywhere. The computer display, suddenly active, cast small shadows across the dimly lit bridge, and somewhere in it, something stirred.

Ashley opened up the computer files to do a little browsing, and realized with disappointment that the memory had been erased. There were bits and pieces of files left, some that whoever or whatever erased them hadn't known how to fully remove, or had been in too much of a hurry to. One thing was becoming clear, though. The crew had not been onboard the Prometheus at the time of its arrival in system.

Ashley noticed something odd on top of the helm console, a metallic object that shouldn't have been there. She moved over to it, and then noticed that there was one at every single console on the bridge that would have been occupied by a person. Her eyes narrowed, and she drew her tricorder. She was about to scan it when she heard a noise behind her, and turned to look. She saw nothing, her headlamps shining all over the walls of the bridge.

She began to scan the object, but just as she did, a blue bolt of energy blasted past her head and slammed into the viewscreen. She turned, as quickly as was possible in the boots and started running, just as another bolt was fired. This one was off missed as well.

Now Ashley could get a glimpse of her attacker. It was a robot of some kind, perhaps a meter tall, coated in metallic armor plating. It walked on three legs, and appeared to be simply a torso with a few lights and sensors on its body, and a pair of arms that each ended in some kind of weapon. Ashley hit her interlink and drew her phaser at the same time. "Captain!" she said urgently into the link. She then deactivated her gravity boots and pulled herself down behind a console for cover.

"Grant here," she heard the captain's voice come over the intercom.

"I'm under attack on the bridge!" she said, and fired off a phaser shot from around the console. It missed, but the machine moved as if to avoid it, then jumped. "Some kind of robotic drone with unknown weaponry!"

Brightson pushed off the floor and floated to the ceiling of the bridge, always moving, and fired another phaser shot. She was closer this time. Another volley of blue bolts landed uncomfortably close to her. She fired another phaser blast, and this time it was a hit. One of the drone's arms came off after a small explosion, and it faltered for a moment.

"Commander, do we need to beam you out?" Evan shouted over the noise.

"Negative," she said. "I think I can make it out myself," she said, and hoped, and dove for the hole she had blasted in the turbolift doors earlier. She had aimed well, and made it through the hole, her head facing the ceiling as she went through. She grabbed the jagged edges of the opening and pulled herself up, just as a blue energy bolt streaked through the hole, leaving a large black mark on the other side of the turboshaft. "I'm out, Captain," she reported, making her way back down the turboshaft to her point of origin. "And it can't follow me. But we should leave as soon as possible, there are probably more."

"Understood," Grant said. "I tracked down one of the life signs, and it appears that something interesting is going on."

"Go ahead," Ashley said, her interest piqued.

"The life sign I investigated is being generated by some kind of device, almost like a Starfleet decoy unit. The life signs on the ship are all fake. Interestingly, they all appear to feed off the power systems of the ship. Since the power systems are on the fritz, so are the life signs. They would have been fully operational when the Prometheus began to 'dock'."

"Makes sense," said Ashley. "They faked the life signs so that the starbase would let her come within striking distance. Whoever did this had a lot of time and technology on their hands." Then she remembered the devices she'd seen at the control consoles on the bridge. They must have been life-sign generators.

"What I don't understand," Grant stated, "is why the Prometheus didn't send a distress call if they were attacked. It's pretty hard to jam subspace transmissions."

"Hard sir, but it can be done," Ashley replied. "I wonder what happened to the crew?"

"Killed or captured, no doubt," said Grant. "I suspect we'll find out in the long run. Did you find anything useful in the computer core?"

"Erased, Captain," she said. "After going to all this trouble, I doubt that these attackers would have left us such an obvious lead."

Ashley's interlink beeped again, and she heard Daniel's voice. "Everyone, I'm in engineering, and we have a problem. The primary warp core of the ship is still online."

"So what's the problem?" Ashley asked.

"It's about to breach," he said grimly.

"How much time?" Grant asked.

"About five minutes," Daniel replied after a pause. "The ejection mechanism was damaged in the collision, too, so we're out of luck when it comes to ejecting the core. She's going down, captain, and there's nothing I can do about it."

"Very well," Grant said. "How much harm would an explosion in the Prometheus's current position do?"

"Sir, Earth wouldn't receive much damage, if any, but Starbase One is in a bad spot right now. The Prometheus is only about ten kilometers away, and the explosion of a warp core in that range might finish the job she started a half hour ago." A shiver ran down Ashley's spine as she imagined the total destruction of the starbase. It was practically the very heart of Starfleet, more than a hundred years old, the center of operations for most of the Federation. More importantly even than that, however, it held more than a hundred thousand beings.

"Beam back to the ship," Grant said. "It looks like we still have work to do."

"Ashley, beam back as well," he ordered. "We can try to tow it out of here."

"Aye sir," she said. "Ashley to Sovereign. One to beam directly to the bridge. Energize."

The captain materialized at the same time she did. Their EV suits had been removed in transport, and they took their seats.

"Would the Prometheus hold if we went to warp with her in tow?" he asked Hanson.

"I doubt it sir, but it would be better than leaving her here. We would make it at least five hundred kilometers, and the starbase could probably survive the shockwave then."

"Very well. Mr. Brexton, engage a tractor beam," Grant said to his tactical officer. A green beam of energy shot out from the Sovereign and attached itself to the largest piece of the Prometheus. It was quite powerful, capable of dragging the remains of the Prometheus at faster than light speeds, but the process was likely to destroy the damaged warp core. "Mr. Hanson, set a course for the hell out of here," he said. "Number One, go to yellow alert. Inform the starbase they'll be receiving a shockwave shortly."

"Yellow alert," Ashley said. "The starbase has raised the strongest shields she can muster, sir," she added.

"Mr. Hader, how much time?" Grant asked.

"Three minutes, twelve seconds sir," Daniel replied after a slight hesitation. He was watching his console very intently.

"Mr. Hanson, warp five. Engage," Evan said, not even flinching at the thought of what he knew this would do to the Sovereign.

"Aye, sir," Mr. Hanson said, and tapped the controls. The Sovereign turned and leapt forward into space. Not even a second had passed when the Prometheus exploded, the destruction of her warp core accelerated by the stress of faster than light travel. Massive amounts of antimatter and matter collided, and the result was a torrential outpour of radiation and energy. Detecting the blast, the Sovereign automatically shut down her warp engines, preprogrammed not to allow warp speed anywhere near an energy signature so large. The danger lay in the fact that such energy signatures could destabilize a ship's warp field, thus throwing the ship out of warp in a chaotic fashion, typically in several decompressed pieces.

"Sir, the shockwave is approaching," Hanson said nervously. "Looks ugly."

"On screen," Grant said, and an image of a vast, expanding, fiery explosion was displayed. The angle of the picture was such that the shockwave appeared to be larger than Starbase One. Whether or not this was the case was difficult for him to determine. "Emergency power to shields and structural integrity," he said tensely. All hands, brace for impact."

It came closer, and closer, then hit, wreaking havoc on the already battered Sovereign. Evan was hurled backwards into the tactical rail, and smashed his left shoulder as he hit it. The bridge seemed to explode in a shower of sparks, debris, and falling beams. Most of his officers were thrown out of their seats and into various objects while the lights flickered, the ship screaming with stress. The Sovereign was knocked completely off course, and her thrusters fired desperately, attempting to correct for the sudden attitude change. Unfortunately for the crew, this created more tremors. The inertial dampeners, designed to prevent, or at least minimize such events, were having a difficult time compensating for movements in so many different directions. After a few moments, however, the Sovereign's damage control systems finally did their job properly, and the crew began to assess the situation.

Grant, who had been thrown to the ground, staggered to his feet, and asked Mr. Hader, who had just gotten back to his chair, "Report?"

"Shields are gone, warp engines are offline, and we have minor hull breaches on decks five, seven, and ten. Emergency forcefields are online. Long-range sensors are gone, and hull integrity field is at twenty-four percent. Hull integrity is stable, and so is life support," he reported. There was a litany of other, minor damage to less important systems that he could have included, but he decided to spare the captain a full report, at least until time permitted it.

Evan blew out a long deep breath and turned to his first officer's console, nursing his shoulder. Ashley had been thrown out of her chair and into the science console. There was a bad looking wound on her head where it had hit the console, and blood smeared her face. He hurried over to her and felt her wrist. "She's alive," he said. "but she has a severe concussion." Grant tapped his comm. badge. "Two to beam directly to sickbay. Energize."

Ashley materialized on one of the sickbay beds, with Grant standing next to her. Sickbay was already almost fully occupied with wounded from the starbase. "Mavon, she hit her head, hard, on the bridge," he said to the doctor. She needs immediate medical attention.

Mavon nodded, and said, "What about yourself, Captain?" noticing the way he held his injured shoulder.

"I can wait. Shoulder injury, but it's relatively minor." The doctor hurried over to Ashley, injected her with some medication, and began to tend to her, as Grant tapped his comm. badge. "Grant to the bridge," he said.

"Hader here, sir," said his science officer.

"See if you can get a ship to tow us back to Utopia Planitia. It'll take hours on thrusters."

"Aye, sir. The Nightingale is already on her way. How is the commander?" he asked.

"She'll be all right, but I imagine she'll be out of action for a while," Grant said. "Lucky to be alive, at that."

"Aren't we all?" Daniel asked gravely. "Especially everyone on Starbase One."

Evan grinned. "I hear she has some large holodecks. I had been hoping to use them. Oh, well." Suddenly the ship lurched gently as the Nightingale engaged her tractor beam. Though slightly delayed, the Sovereign was finally going to have her repairs. Now, she needed them, he thought. He looked over at Ashley and shook his head. It was all so unnecessary, he realized, as he looked at his badly wounded colleague. His friend. Anger built inside him, and he decided to find out who, or what, was behind this. One of the doctor's aides started running a dermal regenerator over his bruised shoulder. After about a minute, she was done, and he went to his quarters.

Ashley awoke with a splitting headache. More pain than she'd ever felt in one place in her life, flooded her mind. She tried to sit up, but the pain became much worse, so she lay back down and moaned. Mavon came to her side quickly, and said, "Don't try to get up yet. Severe concussions and physical effort shouldn't mix. Here's something for the pain," she said, and injected something into Ashley's neck with a hypospray. "The Sovereign is back in drydock, and it's beta shift. You wouldn't need to be on the bridge even if there was something to do," Mavon said softly. "You should try to sleep," she said. "I'd give you something to help that, but, it's better if your body sleeps naturally, under the circumstances. I wouldn't want to put you into a coma."

"Thanks," Ashley said wryly. "Neither would I," she said. Almost instantly she fell asleep again.

Evan was in a shuttle pod with Hanson, out inspecting the damage to the Sovereign. They were passing by her engineering hull, and it didn't look good. "An entire row of warp coils overloaded here, sir," Hanson said, pointing to the Sovereign's starboard nacelle. "The computer shut down our warp engines too quickly, and they just burned out. There are substantial burn marks over the primary hull and ventral thrusters. The ablative armor held up pretty well, considering, but even that could use a good going over," he said. "The impulse engines will need a new manifold; a surprising amount of energy found its way back into the exhaust shafts. Most of the primary long-range sensor pallets were melted by the blast; they will need to be replaced as well. We already had those other marks over the engineering hull and dorsal saucer sections, and that Sumari warhead that embedded itself in the hull two weeks ago will need to be removed. Plasma conduits on deck twelve burned out after the explosion; those have to be removed and replaced, and because of that the environmental controls for most of the lower decks are on the fritz. As you are well aware, the quantum torpedo launcher will need to be repaired; it was collapsed inward by a Sumari torpedo. A few phaser arrays are knocked out as well. All in all, we did quite a job on her. The drydock engineers will have their hands full for about a week. Luckily nothing too complex or unusual has to be replaced. Mostly it's just repair work, and we have plenty of manpower in this neck of the woods, although they are estimating it will take over a year to repair the damage to Starbase One."

"It was a creative attack, you have to admit," Grant said as the shuttle began to move away from the Sovereign. He turned away from his battered ship, and faced Hanson.

"It would have been a lot worse if we hadn't showed up. The Prometheus had a big warp core."

"What word on the Prometheus project?" Grant asked, as they left drydock and flew slowly back down to Starfleet Command.

"They aren't quite sure yet," Hanson replied. "It has hit bumps in the road before, but now they have to build a new ship. My guess is that it will at least be delayed, if not canceled."

The red glow of atmospheric friction grew around the shuttlecraft as they entered the Earth's atmosphere. Soon the night lights of San Francisco came into view, and they were a beautiful sight indeed, and a familiar one. Both of the two officers had received their basic training in this city. They landed the shuttle and stepped out. Grant and Hanson looked around, admiring the sights and sounds of San Francisco at night. "It was an impressive place," Grant thought to himself. He turned and faced Hanson.

"Have a good time with your family," he said. "It's time I talked to the admiral's council at Command."

Hanson nodded at him, smiling at the thought of seeing his loved ones again, then walked off to the nearest public transportation stop. Evan turned to face the large, distant building that was Starfleet Command, and started walking toward it. He wandered through the city on his way, still wearing his Starfleet uniform. He felt very much apart, almost a newcomer to some strange planet, as he strode down alley after alley, by restaurants, stores, houses, and museums, many of which were filled with civilians, laughing and talking and enjoying themselves.

As he looked about him, memories of his younger years surfaced in his mind. He remembered old friends, teachers, and lovers, and a great many animated talks over a great many meals at a great many cafes. His academy days held a certain nostalgia for him, though he was certainly happy to have a bit more authority than he used to.

This was an especially pleasant walk for him, considering that he hadn't been to Earth in a while. There were many buildings that he recognized, and a few new ones that he did not.

"It's been so long," he thought. "I barely even know my own home planet anymore." That thought gave him pause, as he considered what he had given up for the sake of his career. Grant was a direct man, however, and did not allow himself to dwell long on the 'what if's' of his past. He had chosen his path, and had excelled at it. Regrets would only hurt, and they were unnecessary. Putting aside his thoughts, he opened his eyes and ears to the city, observing everything that he could.

It was due to this haphazard wariness that about halfway to headquarters, Grant began to get the feeling that he was being followed. He heard footsteps that he was positive were not his own, and often turned to look behind him, but saw nothing, always. It happened again, and Evan paused, considering his options. One of them stood out as the most likely to reveal whoever was following him, though it was slightly dangerous. He started running. Now, he could clearly hear another set of feet behind him, and shortly before he turned a corner, an energy blast flew past him, damaging a nearby building.

Grant expected to hear an alarm go off, but then he realized he was very close to the section of San Francisco that had recently been evacuated due to a radiation increase in the area. The increase was not so much as to be physically dangerous, but the Federation took no chances with the safety of its citizens. Thus, they evacuated the area until they could identify the cause. Power had been cut to the segment, to see if that stopped the radiation build up, and the area barricaded. The energy blast his attacker had fired had flown through the warning signs that had been put up, and hit one of the powered down buildings, and thus, no alarm went off. As if things weren't bad enough, he was alone, except of course for this pesky assassin who was chasing him. Evan regretted his carelessness in wandering into this area of the city, but at least his attacker's weapons fire wasn't endangering any civilian lives.

He caught sight of a large, blocky building about six blocks away, and recognized the unmistakable utilitarian configuration of a docking bay. An idea struck him, and the captain tried to imagine the shortest route to the bay. Unfortunately, he realized, it lay in going straight through the powered down city-segment. Grant took off running again, this time into the barricaded area, and another blast went by. Running down the road, he came to a construction fence that stood guard over a eight-foot drop to cement pavement. Without even stopping he vaulted the fence and dropped to the ground. He grunted as he landed, and pain shot up both his legs. Evan forced himself to keep moving, but it wasn't easy. He glanced back behind him, and another blast smacked into the ground beside him. Grant took off running again, and his pursuer took the same jump with little difficulty. Grant suspected that whoever was chasing him was not human, and he could tell that it was getting closer.

Fortunately for Grant, he had arrived at the docking bay, and he quickly entered an all-purpose Starfleet entry code. The door slid open, and Grant found himself in a cargo bay. Another energy blast at the door encouraged him to hurry, and he ran across the bay to a turbolift. He took it up to the top level and ran across the landing pad until he found what he was looking for, a type eleven shuttle. He heard the turbolift starting to move again, and he knew he didn't have much time. Evan tried to open the shuttle's hatch with a standard Starfleet code, but it appeared this vessel was someone's personal property, and was re-coded. He glanced at the I.D. on the shuttle, and saw that it was named the Enterprise. He smiled for almost half a second.

Grant took out his tricorder, while simultaneously cursing his decision not to bring a communicator, which he could have used to call for help. He hurriedly interfaced the tricorder with the shuttle and told it to begin trying access codes. Then, feeling a rush of adrenaline in his gut, he ran, just as the turbolift door opened again. After looking hurriedly about for cover, he rolled under a nearby type six shuttle, and heard footsteps echo across the pad. Grant heard a noise, like controls being touched, and he suspected that his tracker was scanning for him. Luckily for Grant, whatever energy signature his body generated was obscured by the warp coils of the shuttle he was hiding under. He tried to quiet his breathing, and waited.

The footsteps moved to the side of the shuttle he was under, the side farthest from the type eleven shuttle Grant had placed the tricorder on. He heard a beep from the tricorder, and a whir as the door began to slide open. He rolled rapidly back out from under the shuttle, and ran for the hatch. Hearing this, his adversary immediately ran back after him, but it was too late. Grant ran inside the shuttle, sealed the door, and powered up the controls. The shuttle's nacelles lit up, and Grant took off.

Not one to be defeated, his pursuer tossed up a small device that magnetically attached itself to the hull of Grant's shuttle, then sliced into the type six shuttle that Grant had hid under. Opening the hatch, without even waiting for it to fully open, he jumped inside and powered up the shuttle. He took off in pursuit. The device that he had attached to Grant's shuttle was both a tracking device and a jamming device. His prey could not call for help, and could be tracked at any distance less than fourteen light years.

Grant powered up his shields and hit the comm. panel. He tried to launch a transmission, but noticed it was blocked. "Damn!" he said, and gritted his teeth. He piloted the shuttle at low altitude and high speed, hoping to get noticed by a police patrol. He was flying at five hundred kilometers per hour, a severe infraction in a populated city. Suddenly his shuttle shuddered, and an alarm went off. His opponent was firing phasers at him.

"Well, that will get us noticed," Evan observed. "I just have to stay alive long enough for the police force to pick us up," he thought. "That shouldn't be too difficult. After all, he's in a type six shuttle." His shuttle bucked again, taking more fire, and he went evasive.

By this time, two police shuttles had acquired locks and were in pursuit. One followed Grant, while the other followed his pursuer. No doubt their sirens were blaring across the night, but Evan couldn't hear them, seeing as their transmissions to him weren't getting through, and the walls of his craft were more or less soundproof.

His hunter attacker had him in an interesting spot. If Grant powered down, his opponent could destroy his shuttle in a single shot. If he didn't, the police might very well shoot down both vessels. He decided he would just have to outrun them all. He put full power to the engines, and felt a noticeable acceleration before the inertial dampeners compensated. He sped right into a thick traffic lane, barely squeezing between two large sized cargo-haulers.

His shuttle pulled ahead of the others, and the police drew back to focus on his assailant. Soon the pursuing shuttle was disabled and was hurtled back down to Earth. It exploded on impact, and Evan cursed the lost opportunity to find out who was trying to kill him.

He immediately powered down his shuttle and landed in clear view of the police craft. He came out with his arms over his head, and they put restraints on him. While in custody, he explained what had happened. As soon as they verified his story by checking his tricorder records, and established that he was who he said he was, they set him free. It wouldn't look good for them to give a reputable Starfleet captain a lot of trouble.

He continued his walk to Starfleet Command under escort, and entered the building without further incident. He took a turbolift to the command level, and made his way through the corridors to stop in front of a very important room, guarded with a pair of armored doors, a security system, and four guards. They eyed him warily as he approached.

"Captain Grant of the Sovereign," he said to the guards, and they nodded respectfully to him. He placed his eye at the same level as the retina scanner, and it began to scan him. Recognizing him, the door slid open, and then the one behind it. He stepped into the council room, to find only a single admiral. Admiral Hayes.

"Sir," Grant said, as the doors closed behind him.

"Evan, please sit down," said the admiral. "I summoned you here to talk about a few things that may be of interest to you and your crew. I was just informed of what happened to you on your way here, and I apologize for that. I should have just authorized you to beam directly to the council room. I didn't suspect that anyone wanted you dead here on Earth. My mistake."

"Under normal circumstances, I would have enjoyed the walk, sir," Evan said. "Is this anything to do with the Prometheus, sir?" he asked.

"It does indeed," said Hayes.

Evan sighed. Hayes flashed him an understanding grin.

"The computer logs garnered by your first officer have proven more useful than they first appeared. Starfleet Intelligence has managed to determine that the Prometheus was boarded by an unknown alien race, and made several unsuccessful attempts to call for help. We could determine this from archived error messages in the computer's encrypted data storage. They were not erased by the memory sweep, since the deletion only affected the areas of memory that the captain had access to. Everything else remained. Not that everything else was very much; the captain had access to a great deal of the data on the ship's computer. The Prometheus, though, being a highly computerized vessel, logs more in its internal memory than most ships, luckily for us. Unfortunately, this isn't much information to go on, but we can speculate a little."

"Here is my first question," Evan said. "How did they rewire the computer of the Prometheus so that it would have allowed a warp jump on a collision course?"

"They must be very talented programmers. As of this time, Starfleet considers it likely that the Prometheus was actually captured for a time, and rewired while her captors were in control of her."

"What about her normal five hour check-ins?" asked Grant. "Did Starfleet receive them?"

"Yes, they were received," answered Hayes. "That means one of two things. Possibility one: the Prometheus was captured for less than five hours. Possibility two: the aliens that captured her faked her signals to Starfleet Command, implying knowledge of Starfleet signals, frequencies, and codes. While we'd like to believe that she was in their hands for less than five hours, it would have taken her longer than that simply to arrive back at Starfleet HQ. Thus, we can safely say they faked the transmissions, and that's not good. Starfleet is working on a new signal system now. We want the Sovereign, as soon as her repairs are complete, to investigate the Prometheus' last known position and track down her attackers. You're authorized to use any means necessary to discover their identity. When this is done, report back to Starfleet for further orders. And, on a side note, don't get killed doing it."

"The U.S.S. Devore, a Nova class science vessel, is conducting sensor sweeps of the Prometheus' last known position and recording them in her logs, just so we don't lose any information on deteriorating engine trails or energy signatures that might prove useful to you. We'll have preliminary results in the morning, and I'll transmit them to the Sovereign. Consider all of this sensitive information. You are authorized to share it with your crew, but no one else, and the same holds for them."

"Good luck, and while you're back, enjoy yourself. I hate to brief captains on their next mission when they just showed up for shore leave, but I promise you, once you get back, there will be more waiting for you."

"Thank you, sir," Evan said, rising to leave.

"Oh, and Evan, how is Ashley doing?" Hayes asked. "And how is she working out as your first officer?"

"She is recovering as expected from her concussion," Evan said grimacing. "She's a fine exec officer. Competent, creative, and unusually disciplined for such a young one," he said. "I think she'll work out fine, sir," he finished.

"Just don't forget," Hayes said. "She's not the only young one on your ship."

"Yes, sir," Evan said, frowned, and nodded. With that, he strode from the room, wondering exactly what the admiral had meant.

One of the guards handed him a comm. badge on his way out. "If nothing else," Evan thought, "they were efficient." He left the building and looked around for a moment. Then, he contacted his ship. "Grant to Sovereign," he said, and waited. Daniel came on momentarily.

"Daniel here, sir."

"Commander, did you happen to be watching from orbit?"

"Of course, sir. Not every day you see shuttles duking it out in San Francisco. I presume you mean the shuttle chase."

"Naturally. Could you download all sensor readings you gathered from orbit into my tricorder? I have a suspicion about my attacker," said Grant.

"No problem, sir," Daniel replied. Grant's tricorder whirred to life and information began to flash across the screen as Grant watched. He isolated the readings he wanted, and analyzed them.

"_**DAMN!**__"_ he swore. "_**Exactly what I would have done!**_" In a fit of anger, he slammed the tricorder back into its appropriate holster on his belt.

"Sir?" asked Daniel, puzzled.

"Look at the readings," Grant said. "The shuttle's mass dropped by ninety-five kilos just before it hit the ground. I have a feeling its driver—" Before he even finished the sentence, a blue bolt of energy sailed out of nowhere and hit him in the chest. Grant cried out and collapsed to the ground. Daniel, hearing both the impact of the bolt and his cry, immediately had the captain beamed directly to sickbay.

Chaos reigned. Mavon scrambled to stabilize Grant's condition. She activated the crossbar life support system, and a scanner/life-support mechanism slid out of the sickbay couch Grant was lying on, interfacing itself with his body. His condition was stabilized within seconds, and she began running scans. This would take the full week they had in spacedock to heal. Whatever had fired on him was the equivalent of a high-powered sniper rifle, and the energy bolt had gone straight through his body. It had missed the heart, but one of his lungs was punctured and his chest cavity was now depressurized. Evan would have been dead in seconds if it hadn't been for the timely actions of his science officer and doctor.

Back on the bridge, Daniel paced to and fro, casting angry glances first at the viewscreen, then at the science console, and looking at the floor as if he could see through fifteen decks to sickbay, where Evan was being held.

"Mavon to bridge," came the doctor's voice.

"Daniel here, Ma'am," he said.

"The captain will survive, but even in this sickbay it'll take at least a week to heal his injuries. If you hadn't beamed him up he'd be dead by now," Mavon said in a shaken voice. "What happened down there?"

"I'm afraid I can't stop to explain now," Daniel said. "Hanson is still down on Earth, and I'd like to check on him before I rest. It seems that Sovereign's officers have become very popular targets."

"Understood," said Mavon. "I'll keep you informed."

The commlink clicked shut.

"This is ridiculous," said Daniel. "Ensign, scan for Hanson's comm. signal," he said to a young ensign currently at the science console.

"I have a fix, sir," she said. "South of downtown Sans, in a medium sized house. No unusual readings."

"Put that house on screen," Daniel said. Just now, he really loved being on a Sovereign class. Nothing could beat those sensors. He made a mental note to thank the drydock repair crews for fixing the powerful short-range scanners first.

"Aye, sir," the ensign said, and put the house onscreen.

"Adjust screen coloration to compensate for light levels," Daniel ordered. The image brightened substantially, and he could see the edges of the house now, silhouetted against the night. "Overlay infrared readings of human nature or greater," he said, and several human forms became visible inside the outline of the house. One of them was clearly Hanson, a tall, muscular figure lying in bed with a book in his hands.

Daniel stopped pacing and sat down in the captain's chair, resting his head on his fist while he thought.

"Ensign, send the sensor readings we had of Grant while I was talking to him over to my console." He examined the readings, finding nothing of interest. No unusual readings until the energy blast appeared on sensors. He traced it back to its evident origin, but sensors read no life signs there. "He must have been cloaked," thought Daniel. "Not even our sensors picked him up. I wonder…." then he paled. Without even pausing to talk to the ensign, he ran out of his chair and sprinted to the turbolift. "Deck sixteen," he said, and the turbolift dutifully whirred to life and whisked him on his way. The doors opened, and he ran down the corridors to the door marked 'sickbay', and entered. Mavon was close to the door, but before she could say anything Daniel had jogged to Grant's side and taken the tricorder off of his belt.

Daniel had not examined the readings for more than a minute when he found what he was looking for. Tachyon emissions, from approximately the same coordinates that the Sovereign had traced the weapons fire to. Grant's attacker was indeed cloaked. Ignoring Mavon's queries, he dashed back out of sickbay and tapped an intercom panel in the corridor.

"Daniel to bridge," he said, and waited breathlessly for the ensign to respond.

"Shenna here, sir," she responded.

"Ensign, I need you to scan that house and the surrounding area for tachyon particles. Divert any power to sensors that you need. Quickly," he said.

"Scanning now, sir," she said, and he could hear the sounds from her console. He knew them well enough. "Picking up slightly elevated tachyon emissions in the area, sir."

"Shit!" Daniel exclaimed bluntly. "Have a security team meet me in transporter room three. Tell them to bring night vision gear, phaser rifles, and our most sensitive tachyon flares. On the double," he said, and closed the link.

He sprinted down the corridor, back the way he had come, and entered the turbolift. Shortly afterward, he emerged again, this time on deck six, and he jogged the short distance to the transporter room. The security team was already waiting for him. One of them tossed him a phaser rifle, while another handed him night vision gear. He strapped them both on, and took a hand phaser from the transporter operator.

"You know where to put us?" Daniel asked.

"Yes, sir, the bridge called a few seconds ago."

"Very good," Daniel said, and jogged onto the pad. "Beam us down close to the house. If anyone's life signs begin to fluctuate or disappear, beam him up. If it's not one of us, remove his weapon in transit. Energize," he said, and was thrust back to Earth.

Daniel materialized in almost total darkness, but then his eyes began to adapt. He activated the night vision gear, and turned up the contrast. The edges of nearby objects now stood out clearly against the dark night air. Daniel oriented himself, surveyed the nearby terrain, drew his tricorder, and scanned actively for tachyon emissions. Faint readings indicated the woods behind the house. He gestured the team around to the proper angle, and they took up cover behind whatever objects they could find. One of the security men threw Daniel a tachyon flare, and he caught it deftly, then armed it. He rose up from behind a boulder, set the flare for a two second delay, triggered it, and threw it in the air. After two seconds, a bright blue flash lit the sky, and a beam of glowing energy slammed into the woods about twenty meters away. His infrared sensors immediately locked onto the now illuminated figure in the woods.

"There he is," he whispered loudly to the security team. "You two, stay back here. Everyone else, we'll try to intercept him." Daniel put away his tricorder, and ran off into the darkness. This was fortunate for him, since not ten seconds after he vacated his position, a small object landed near the two security personnel he had told to stay behind. The grenade exploded in an orange fireball, and both officers were killed in the blast.

Daniel looked back when he heard the noise, and cursed when he saw the explosion. Not pausing for long, he took cover behind a tree just as a blue energy blast scorched a nearby tree. He whirled back out into the battle, and fired his phaser rifle at the assassin. It was close, but a miss. Several other phaser blasts indicated the presence of more Starfleet personnel. Unfortunately, they missed as well. Several blue bolts answered their fire. No hits though. Daniel took aim again, but before he could fire, the blue halo around his enemy vanished. He cursed and groped for another tachyon flare, but remembered that the security personnel had only given him one. He heard more weapons fire, and then a cry from the woods. He quickly scanned the woods nearby, then dashed as fast as he could to the side of one of the dead officers. Just as the transporter began to beam him out, Daniel grabbed another flare, armed it, activated it, and threw it up in the air. The blue flash repeated, and again the assassin was visible. Now he was close to the house, and when Daniel switched to infrared he could see that the inhabitants of the house were agitated. They had heard the noise.

Daniel took a calculated risk and fired his rifle again. He missed, and the blast hit the wall next to a door of the house. The light illuminated the metal doorknob, and the assassin darted toward it. Daniel ran forward and fired another shot as the blue figure entered the house. He would have hit, but the door closed between him and the enemy. Daniel tapped his comm. badge. "Sovereign, transport all life signs in that house to the ship immediately."

The infrared signatures inside the house vanished. The one remaining security man came up beside him, and they ran up to the door. The alien had locked it, but Daniel, in no mood to wait, shot the door at full power. It vaporized, and alarms went off in the house, summoning Federation police forces. He stormed inside the house, pointing his phaser rifle at the most likely angles of attack. He did not, however, point it where the attack came from, above the door. Something heavy fell on top of him and Daniel fell to the ground in a heap. His phaser rifle clattered to the ground and slid out of reach, and he realized that the assassin was on top of him. He rolled, only to get punched in the jaw, hard, and realized he was physically no match for this being. The other officer was too confused to shoot, unable to tell exactly where the assassin was, and his odds of shooting Daniel in the process of killing the assassin seemed rather high. Luckily, Daniel had an idea. He tapped his communicator, tore it off, and placed it on the alien's cloaking suit. It adhered nicely, and just as he received another punch to the face, Daniel managed to gasp out, "Sovereign, beam me up _now_!" The transporter energy swirled around the alien instead, locking on to Daniel's comm. signal.

The security officer tapped his comm. badge, and said, "Don't rematerialize him. Hold him in the pattern buffer. Redirect transport to the brig, authorization kappa one. Security out." He extended his hand to Daniel, who grasped it and pulled himself to his feet. "Quick thinking, Commander. You'll make security yet."

Daniel grinned and wiped the blood off his chin. "Thanks," he said.

"Robert to Sovereign," the security officer said. "Two to beam up. Energize." The transporter returned them both to the Sovereign.

Daniel arrived in the midst of a disgruntled group of people which included Hanson. He grasped Hanson's shoulder, and they walked aside. "I'm sorry to disturb you and your family at such an ungodly hour," Daniel said with sincere, albeit unjustified regret.

"What's going on?" Hanson asked. "Nothing I've been told makes sense. And there sure aren't any senior officers to talk to."

"After you and the captain split up on the surface, there was an attempt on his life. An unknown alien under some kind of cloak attacked him. After a brief shuttle chase, he evaded the alien and almost got off scot free. His pursuer's shuttle crashed into the ground rather hard, and everyone thought he was dead. Grant had his meeting with Starfleet Command, then came out, and requested the sensor data we had on the shuttle chase. He noticed that the shuttle's mass dropped by a small amount before it exploded. Before he could even suggest that the alien had beamed out, I heard weapons fire, and beamed him directly to sickbay. He's on life support now, and will recover eventually. Ashley will be up and about a little sooner, but, to cut a long story short, the alien came after you next. We managed to stop him before he killed you. Barely," Daniel said, as a look of comprehension, then concern, dawned on the helmsman's face.

"What about after drydock, when we depart?" Hanson asked. "Is the captain really in any shape to command the Sovereign?"

"Not for a good three days after we leave," Daniel said. "My guess is that Starfleet will instate Commander Brightson as captain of the Sovereign until Grant is fit to resume command."

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Hanson asked. "She's a competent officer, but she's only been in Starfleet for five years! This would be her first mission in the captain's chair. And this is a rather critical mission. What if she screws up?" he said bluntly.

Daniel paused for a moment, then said simply, "She won't," then turned on his heel. As an afterthought, Daniel turned around. "I'll have Robert talk to the police down on Earth," he said. "You should be allowed to return to your home shortly. The Sovereign will keep watch from up here, and we'll let you know if anything dangerous comes your way. Oh, and one last thing, ensign. Wear your comm. badge, all right? I just developed a new respect for those things." Daniel turned again and left the transporter room. Finally, his shift was over. Time to get some rest.

The next day, Ashley was well enough to leave sickbay. At least, she thought so, and Mavon didn't give her too much trouble. She sat up, and saw Grant's unconscious form on the bed next to hers. Remembering what Mavon had told her of what had happened, she whispered, "The changing of the guard," softly, to no one in particular. She shook her head and headed to the astrometrics lab. She had told Daniel she would meet him there five minutes ago, and she didn't want to be any later.

Ashley was unsurprised to discover that as soon as she started walking down the corridor, a splitting headache roared to life in her skull. She stopped walking, blinked a few times and let the pain dull, then kept going. An ensign walked by, and she nodded to him politely. Soon, she came to the astrometrics lab, and entered the room. Daniel was sitting in one of the lab chairs, already waiting for her.

"Sorry I'm late," she said briskly. "Overslept."

"Perfectly understandable," he said with a smile. "I'd rather you were feeling up to specs, rather than pushing yourself too hard. The U.S.S. Devore, a Nova class science ship, has been scanning the Prometheus' last known position and the nearby systems, and has transmitted some preliminary results this morning. The captain wanted them analyzed as soon as possible, so, here we are."

He tapped a few controls, and the large domed screen that served as the ceiling and walls of the lab activated, showing a large area of the Alpha Quadrant, and then focused in on the area Daniel was interested in. "The Prometheus' last known position was here," he said, and a small representation of the cruiser appeared on the screen. "She was patrolling the Federation-Cardassian border, such as it is. On the Federation side, there are three nearby star systems. Only one was ever inhabited, and that was only a colony. The planet was abandoned shortly after the Dominion War began. On the Cardassian side, there are another five star systems, in an area that was never directly controlled by the Empire. Starfleet never managed to find out why these star systems slipped through the Cardassians' fingers, but there are rumors floating around that several of the eighteen planets contained in these star systems are inhabited."

"The Devore was unable to get conclusive scans of the systems without crossing the border, but her preliminary ones suggest that likely planets for any sentient species are here, here, and here," Daniel said, hitting some more controls and illuminating three of the eighteen planets. "Several of the others are capable of supporting life, but are far less hospitable. Of these three, only this one, Sac'rah Two, has substantial amounts of mineral resources or water, at least as far as the Devore can tell." Another highlight appeared around one planet, and an overlay of possible oceans and Dilithium deposits were displayed. "Starfleet considers this planet to be worth investigating, but I'm sure Admiral Hayes will tell you more about that later, Ma'am."

"I'm sure he'll enjoy briefing me on everything he already told Evan," Ashley lied.

"Well, at least we have Evan's attacker in custody," said Daniel. "He might be able to shed some light on the situation. If, say, he were to be gently prodded."

"Starfleet interrogation techniques are about as brutal as a three night stay in a waterbed," Ashley said. "I don't think we'll be getting anything out of him with those."

Daniel chuckled. "Well, you never know. Maybe he's ticklish… I'm sure our tactical officer would give that a try."

Ashley's laughing was interrupted by the chirp of her comm. badge. "Hanson here, Ma'am," he said over the open channel. "I've found something you might want to take a look at."

"I'm on my way," she replied. "We'll have to continue this later, commander," Ashley said, and left astrometrics.

She took a turbolift back to the bridge and found Hanson looking at the viewscreen. It was zoomed in on a section of hull plating, and there was an object on it. Moving.

Ashley's face darkened. It looked familiar, or at least vaguely so. It was a variant on the drone she had encountered aboard the Prometheus. Only this one was larger. And far, far, more dangerous, if appearances were any guide. She and Hanson exchanged glances.

"Where?" she asked.

"Our ship, port side of the engineering hull, deck twelve," Hanson said. "We only found it a few moments ago, running a tachyon scan of the ship. That was Daniel's idea, didn't want anything sneaking up on us again. It looks like checking was a good idea."

"Well, we can't exactly blow it up," Ashley said, turning to face Hanson. "I don't envy taking shots at our hull, and I assume a transporter lock is out of the question."

"That's correct," Hanson said.

"SIR!" cried an ensign at the science console, who was staring at the viewer.

Ashley turned back to the viewscreen. As she watched, the drone fired a powerful, blue energy blast straight into the deck. She felt the deck shudder under her feet, and immediately an alarm sounded. "INTRUDER ALERT-INTRUDER ALERT!" came the demanding voice from the computer.

"Get security down there now," she said, and jogged to the turbolift. On the way to deck twelve she replicated a phaser rifle. She put the strap around her shoulder and held it combat ready. The doors opened, and she stepped out of the turbolift. The lights in the corridor were dimmed, albeit filled with shouting and footsteps. Ashley listened carefully, trying to hear over the din and confusion of her crew. She heard weapons fire and more shouts, farther along down the corridor. She ran down the corridor, taking a few turns and bends, until she found the fight.

Two security men were taking cover in a small alcove some distance away from the drone. A phaser blast slammed by it, illuminating the forcefield that covered the sizable hole in the Sovereign's hull. The drone moved rapidly, making quick, birdlike movements. Another phaser blast hit it, but was deflected against some kind of personal shield. It fired a few blasts from one of its six arms, then ran down the corridor past Ashley and the other security men. They fired phasers in a futile effort to damage it. It was soon out of sight, and they took off in pursuit, scrambling to keep up.

"Where is it going?" she asked.

"I don't know, Ma'am," the younger officer replied. "It looks like it's making a run for the turbolift," he said.

Ashley frowned, then something clicked in her mind.

"Damn," she said, and stopped running.

"What is it, Ma'am?" asked the young officer.

"I know where it's going," she said. "And I'm impressed."

She tapped her comm. badge. "Brig," she said. "Get some reinforcements. The drone that forced its way in is heading your way. Make it quick." Ashley walked to a computer panel on the deck. With a series of rapidly entered commands, she sealed off the brig with a level seven forcefield. That should be more than enough to stop a drone, she thought. She hoped.

Ashley and the other security officers ran down the corridor to the turbolift and took it to deck fifteen, where the brig was located. The security officers dashed out quickly, but Ashley, more cautious, listened carefully. There were shouts of crewmen, and footsteps, not to mention a faint metallic clanging noise above everything. Suspecting it was the drone, Ashley drew her phaser rifle and moved slowly forward, checking every step before she took it. As she got closer, the sounds of phaser fire were evident. Ashley knew the decks of the ship quite well, and realized that she was coming up on the forcefield she had activated. As she rounded a bend in the ship, she found the drone. The bodies of the two officers that had dashed ahead lay on the deck nearby. She withdrew several steps, and considered what to do. No doubt more security people were on their way, and as long as the drone couldn't get to the brig she could afford to wait.

She heard a strange sound from around the bend, and she moved forward to look. The drone had activated an instrument and was running it back and forth over the forcefield. Ashley dropped to a crawling position and watched closely, hoping it wasn't doing what she suspected it was. As she shifted her bEvance, the phaser rifle's shoulder strap slipped a little on her shoulder, and the rifle clattered on the floor. Ashley became silent instantly, hardly daring to breathe, one hand on her phaser rifle, the other pressed against the floor so that she could get to her feet as quickly as possible. She listened intently, but could no longer hear any sign of the drone's instrument.

Then, she heard a metallic clang as the drone turned. She could feel the vibrations in the deck as it approached. Standing up, she started to run. She rounded another bend in the corridor just as the footsteps behind her began to pick up speed. The drone could hear her now, and was coming to see what was happening.

Ashley doubted she could outrun it, and started to form a plan of escape. She was approaching a junction in the corridor, where another corridor intersected with it, and where several jeffries tube access ports were located. She picked up her speed, and arrived at the junction, just as the drone's footsteps were coming very close. She dropped to her knees, wincing as she skinned them, and tapped the access port controls. This one was jammed, oddly enough. Ashley hurried across to another one and opened it. She clambered inside just as a furious volley of blue energy bolts smacked into the access hatch. She paused for a moment to catch her breath, pleasantly surprised that the hatch had held up to the energy barrage. The tubes were dimly lit, cramped affairs, usually unpleasant places to be. Ashley wasn't complaining, though, since this one had saved her life. She crawled to the next junction, a location that was a considerable distance from the drone, she hoped. When she reached it, she climbed out, only to find six phaser rifles pointed at her.

At the sight of the first officer's pretty, golden head, Lieutenant Dennis Bromtan breathed a sigh of relief. He had been sent to intercept the drone shortly after Commander Brightson's biosign had vanished from internal sensors. It was indeed a relief to see her alive. He immediately relaxed his grip on his phaser rifle and extended his hand. She took it, and he helped her up.

"Commander, when your biosign disappeared from internal sensors we feared the worst. The drone is several sections down, in the brig, last we checked," he said.

She nodded, and started walking briskly down the corridor. The security guards bracketed her protectively, forming a circle of weaponry as they advanced down the corridor. They came to the door marked "brig" and the two forward security guards stepped aside, as Ashley came up to the door. She entered an access code, and the reinforced doors slid open. They stepped slowly inside.

"Cell number five," whispered Dennis in her ear. Ashley nodded, and slowly, deliberately, raised her phaser rifle, unfazed by the metallic noises from around a corner. The team raised theirs as well, and the faint beeps of rifles being set to maximum power were audible. They stepped over the prostrate body of a security guard. Ashley raised her chin, her face showing extraordinary determination, and considerable anger at the casualties the drone had already caused. She raised her phaser rifle, and took up a position along the wall adjacent to the passage. The security team stood near her, and they prepared to face the drone. Ashley held up three fingers, and pulled them slowly back in a silent countdown. As she pulled the last finger down, they wheeled around the corridor and began firing phasers as rapidly as they could. The team took up different firing positions as the drone turned to face them, and then they scattered as the drone fired an unceasing barrage of disruptor bolts into the brig. The team was back in cover within seconds, and no one was hurt, but the stream of bolts just didn't stop.

Ashley grimaced as a volley smacked into the control console, showering sparks all over the room when the console's relay overloaded.

"We don't have time for this," she said in irritation. With a few movements of her hand, she set her phaser rifle to overload and pressed the trigger. It began to heat up in her hand, and she knew that shortly it would be far too hot to handle. She ducked around the corner and threw it, with all her strength, into the cell, pulling back just in time to avoid another volley of blasts. As it was, she felt the heat of one of them singe her cheek.

"Computer, activate a level nine forcefield around brig cell five, authorization 2-Beta-957," she said breathlessly. A forcefield flashed to life around the cell, just in time to contain a massive blast of energy from the overloading rifle. Ashley watched as the explosion billowed inside the cell. Suddenly the forcefield blew out, and she barely was able to pull her head back before the blast slammed out into the main room. The firefight was over though, and the drone had been destroyed. Now she needed to find out what had happened to the assassin.

Ashley walked over to the main control console, and then remembered that it had been shot at. She moved to a backup console, and accessed the camera logs of the cell. Isolating the time period she wanted, she played the recording back. The drone had walked into the room and communicated with the assassin for some time. The universal translator had extreme difficulty with the language, and little sense could be made of it. After a time, the drone had extended another instrument, and the prisoner vanished in a cloud of transporter energy. The drone had stored the assassin in its pattern buffer, she theorized, and she and the security team had not only destroyed the drone, but also all traces of the assassin as well.

"Pity," she thought. "We might have gotten some useful information out of him." Inwardly, though, she doubted it.

She dismissed the security officers and returned to the bridge. Accessing the computer, she added one more fix to the repair list, the brig. Ashley cringed inwardly at the reaction the engineers would no doubt have. They had been working day and night to restore the Sovereign to perfect order, and it would be a huge irritation to have to repair everything in the brig.

"Too bad," she thought philosophically.

She retired to her quarters for the night, changed out of her uniform, and slept deeply.

Evan opened his eyes in sickbay, and was immediately shocked by the pain in his chest. He gasped involuntarily, and the doctor hurried to his side.  
"Don't even think about trying to sit up," Mavon said in a stern, motherly voice. "We still have a lot of mending to do in your chest cavity," she said, looking sympathetically down at him. "At _least_ another two days until you return to duty."

"What did I miss?" Evan asked groggily. "How long have I been unconscious?"

"To answer your first question, quite a bit," Mavon said. "To answer your second question, five days. Here, Daniel wrote a report for you," she said, handing him a datapad. "He knew you'd want to know as soon as you were conscious. If you get a headache, stop reading," she said.

Evan smiled weakly, impressed by his crew's handling of things while he had been unconscious. He browsed through the various entries in the datapad, groaning as he noticed the attack on Hanson, and the drone's forceful entry into the Sovereign. "Ashley had handled that well," he noted to himself, and shook his head. "Amazing how the officers so shortly out of the academy can sometimes deal with things better than a seasoned admiral," he thought. He read the report in detail for another hour, along with a concise summary of the U.S.S. Devore's findings while patrolling the Cardassian border.

The ship's repairs were being carried out with uncharacteristic speed, and it hit Evan that Starfleet was in a hurry to get the Sovereign out of spacedock. "Harder to hit a moving target than a docked one," he supposed, and put his head back down on the bed. He fell asleep again, and did not wake for a long time.

Daniel, and Brexton, the tactical officer, stayed up late that night, making contingency plans and tweaking the Sovereign's tactical systems all night. They made slight progress in areas such as phaser recharge rate, the efficiency of the ship's shields, and the cooling system on the quantum torpedo tubes. Nothing that was a huge improvement over the previous systems, but Brexton was determined to make the Sovereign the most powerful and resilient ship in the fleet. Of course, his only competition was the Enterprise-E, but that vessel alone could keep him busy working on new maneuvers, and slight tactical modifications. The main idea here was that Brexton wanted the ship to be ready, no matter what might happen.

Daniel worked with him closely, making sure that all the modifications were logged and approved, playing his role as the authorization figure admirably. Daniel left the bridge knowing that the Sovereign was in better shape than when he had entered it, and that was all he needed to know.

Tomorrow, the Sovereign would leave spacedock, and then the real adventure would begin. It would probably be years before she returned to Earth. The Sovereign was what Starfleet classified as a deep space vessel, capable of cruising the outer limits of explored space for years at a time, without need to refuel or repair, and as a result she was designed with massive storage space in mind. The antimatter tanks on the ship were many times as large as those on shorter-range vessels, and the Sovereign even carried a reserve warp core, lest she be caught without light speed capability far from the nearest starbase. She carried three hundred quantum torpedoes, and the same number of photon torpedoes as well. Her cargo bays were filled with batteries and spare parts, but the space she needed to store those was cut down on by the fact that she carried industrial grade replicators, capable of synthesizing entire shuttlecraft at the press of a few buttons. The replicators could make many of the parts that the Sovereign would need, manufactured from pure energy produced by the ship's massive fusion reactor. Starfleet had recently enhanced the ship's bussard collectors to be able to collect pockets of antimatter that starships occasionally encountered, to be used as fuel in the ship's warp core. The Sovereign class starship was truly the most powerful vessel in the fleet, and quite possibly, the quadrant. At least, Daniel hoped it was.

Ashley woke up, and, after dozing for a few minutes, got out of bed and took a sonic shower, letting the ultrasonic waves vibrate the dirt and sweat off of her body. Then she put on the gray topped, otherwise black uniform that announced to the world that she was a Starfleet officer. She combed her hair, replicated breakfast, and ate quickly. After that was done, she recorded a few lines in her daily log, focusing her mind on the tasks at hand, and left her quarters. She strode down the sturdy, metallic corridors, nodding politely to lower ranking personnel as she passed them. She entered the turbolift, and took it up to the bridge. Ashley arrived a few minutes before her shift was to start, and relieved the officer currently on duty. Daniel arrived a few seconds later, and Evan was next. He smiled when he saw her, and walked, with unusual slowness, to the captain's chair, where he sat, clearly pleased to be back.

"It's good to see you again, Captain," Ashley said, smiling lightly as she saw him look around the bridge.

"It's good to be back," he said, as Hanson and Brexton arrived. The senior staff, aside from the engineer, who was still in engineering, was now on the bridge. Today, Ashley thought, was the start of only the second mission on which she had served as the Sovereign's executive officer. She loved the air of excitement as the bridge crew readied for departure.

"Clear all moorings," said Evan to Hanson, who tapped a few controls, signaling to Starfleet that the Sovereign was ready to depart.

"Moorings cleared, sir," he said, a few seconds later. "All worker bees have been notified to depart the area."

"Let's give them a few moments," Evan said softly, watching the viewscreen intently as several small craft hurriedly evacuated the dock.

Ten seconds later, Daniel reported, "All worker bees have cleared spacedock, sir."

"All right then," said Evan. "I guess this is it. Take a good long look back at Earth, because with any luck, we won't be seeing it again for five years. Of course, it never seems to happen that way," he said, trying to cheer the immediately sobered expressions of the crew. "Take us out, thrusters only," he ordered Hanson.

With a flourish, Hanson tapped the controls, and the Sovereign moved out of spacedock, shedding the confines of the spacedock like a butterfly from a cocoon.

"Set a course for the Cardassian neutral zone," Evan said. "Maximum warp."

"Course laid in, sir," Hanson responded.

"Engage," Evan said theatrically.

"Aye, sir," Hanson said, and hit one more control. The Sovereign curved in space, turning to face her new course, then leapt forward after a brilliant blue flash of her warp engines. Starfleet's most powerful starship was on her way.

"How long till we reach the border?" Evan asked.  
"Seven hours, twenty-one minutes," Hanson replied promptly, having expected the question. Evan nodded, crossing his legs. He accessed the computer logs from his command chair, and began to pour over everything Starfleet knew about the Cardassians and the Prometheus. They, he knew, were really the only givens in the situation.

Captain Helen Ferguson of the U.S.S. Devore reclined in her chair, looking out over the sizable bridge of the Nova class starship. She had just been notified that the Sovereign was on her way, and was relieved to know that it would not be her duty to patrol the border for much longer. Neither the Devore nor her captain was suited to this task, both being primarily concerned with science and exploration, and far less with the Federation's border with a warlike race that had recently been defeated in a costly war. She was about to make a comment concerning the Dominion War when her science officer dashed breathlessly onto the bridge. He had been in astrometrics for the past several hours, analyzing some bizarre anomalies they had discovered in their sensor sweeps.

"Take a look at this, Captain," he said, handing her a datapad.

Helen looked at it for a brief moment, and then her jaw dropped. "What the hell," she muttered in stunned disbelief. Why didn't we notice his before?" she asked in concern.

"Because it was very cleverly hidden," he said. "It's an artificial energy signature. I had to filter through about fifteen layers of masking on it. Remember the miniature black hole we located? This is it. Amazing technology, whoever did this."

"Hail the Sovereign," she said, sinking back farther into her chair. "I bet Evan will want to know about this."

"Incoming transmission from the Cardassian border, sir," Hanson said. "It's from the Devore, sir."

"On screen," Grant said, and Helen Ferguson's face appeared on the screen. It had been a long time, he realized, since he had seen that face. They had been close friends at the academy, and they had graduated in the same year. He had read of several of her remarkable exploits after she left the academy, and had been impressed with her leadership abilities. Starfleet had only limited her to a Nova class starship because of her disregard for the regulations, and a small incident involving a severe disagreement with a commanding officer. She was a woman to be careful around, he remembered, as she spoke.

"Evan," she said, smiling, calling him by his first name as if they had left the academy mere days ago.

"Helen," he said, returning the favor.

"To cut to the chase," she said, "We've just unmasked a rather remarkable deception. One of the anomalies we detected was actually a masked warp signature," she said.

Evan was brought out of his memories by this statement. She had his full attention now.

"Very cleverly masked, I assume, to keep it from you and your crew for this long," he said, teasing her.

"Indeed," she said, with surprising gravity. "Whoever or whatever created it has impressive technology, at least in that particular field. It's not easy to make a warp signature look like a black hole."

Evan raised his eyebrows, impressed. "I agree," he said. "How did you discover it?" he asked.

"My science officer deserves the credit," she said. "As for how, I have no idea. I found out a few moments ago, and, well, he has his own ways," she said. "We'll transmit the data in a few seconds. Don't worry, you'll have plenty of time to look it over before you arrive."

Evan nodded. "Thank you for your help, Helen," he said. "It's good to see you well. Been a long time."

She nodded as well. "It certainly has. Don't let that big ship of yours get to your head," she said smiling. "Helen out."

"We've just received their data on the anomaly," Hanson said.

"Quite a character," Ashley said, grinning, as she always did after meeting someone she liked.

"You have no idea," Grant said, shaking his head. "Daniel, want to have a look at that data?" he hinted.

"Wild horses couldn't drag me away, Captain," Daniel said. Brexton frowned.

"Cultural expression," Evan said, looking sympathetically toward the Bolian tactical officer. Brexton nodded.

"I'll examine this in the astrometrics lab, if you don't mind, sir," Daniel said. "I doubt if this monitor could do their discovery complete justice," he said, gesturing at the tiny panel to his left.

"Not at all," Grant said. "Have fun."

Daniel grinned wryly and left the bridge.

"A few more hours till we arrive?" Grant asked Hanson.

"Three more, sir," he said.

Evan kept reading the database. Time seemed to pass slowly, as he pored over reports of the border. Nothing unusual had been happening, at least, nothing visible to the sharp eyes of Starfleet. And they were sharp, considering that they had just defeated the Cardassians in a bloody war. Starfleet had established several high-powered, highly advanced, sensor surveillance stations along the border, resolving never to be caught off guard again. Still, the computers analyzing the data were no match for a human brain, and it had taken the Devore to uncover the single warp signature. Who knew what else they might have missed? The only thing Grant found of any interest was that several space anomalies had appeared recently along the border, but they were all of different types and energies. They could, he knew, be more warp signatures. On the other hand, they might be nothing. In either case, they would have to be analyzed in great detail.

"We're approaching the border, sir," Hanson said.

Grant tapped his comm. badge. "Daniel, please return to the bridge," he said.

"I'm on my way, sir," he replied.

"Captain, I'm receiving a weak transmission from the border, sir. It's on a Starfleet emergency frequency," Hanson said. "It looks like the Devore," he said nervously. "Audio only."

"Put them through," Evan said.

"Aye, sir," Hanson said, and soon a crackling radio transmission could be heard.

"To all nearby ships," Helen said, "This is the U.S.S. Devore. We are under attack by a Cardassian warship, please assist us."

"Daniel, do you have a fix on the Devore's position?" Grant asked, suddenly alarmed.

"Yes sir. They're about two light years away, in the Deneb system.

"Set a course," Evan said.

"Already done, sir," Hanson said. "Maximum warp?"

"Of course," he said. "Engage." Evan could feel the Sovereign shift under his feet as the ship changed course.

"We'll be there in less than a minute," Hanson said.

"Good," Grant said. Ashley could see the tension in his face, knowing it would be a matter of pure luck whether they arrived in time to save the Devore or not. The worry was justified, considering the puny armaments of a Nova class vessel. They sacrificed combat effectiveness for sensor sensitivity. Helen would have to use her ship's excellent maneuverability to stay alive.

"Dropping out of warp now, sir," Hanson said, as the Sovereign emerged from her subspace cocoon.

"Report!" Evan said urgently.

"The Devore is under attack by a single Cardassian Hutet class warship. Their shields are fluctuating and little damage has been inflicted to the Cardassian vessel. The Devore is engaged in evasive maneuvers, but won't last much longer," Brexton said.

"Red alert," Grant said.

Ashley pressed the buttons, and the klaxon sounded throughout the ship. It was time for the Sovereign to fight one of the most powerful designs in the Cardassian arsenal.

"Sir, the Hutet has changed targets. They are moving to engage us," said Brexton.

"Maneuvers at your discretion, Brexton," Evan said. "Keep us out of their forward weapons arcs at all costs. If they get in a volley of their torpedoes we'll be in serious trouble."

"Aye, sir," Brexton said, and commenced evasive maneuvers.

"Target their ventral shields, and then their warp core," Evan said, giving instructions from years of experience gleaned during the Dominion war. "Use quantum torpedoes as needed." The Sovereign wheeled and turned, keeping the larger, and thus more cumbersome, Cardassian warship from bringing its heavy weapons to bear. The powerful Federation vessel fired a phaser volley from its rear arrays, sending nearly thirty thousand gigawatts of deadly energy at the Cardassian vessel. They responded with a volley of disruptor fire, returning almost twenty-three thousand gigawatts of firepower. The Hutet battle cruiser continued to turn in a futile effort to bring its torpedoes to bear. The more agile Sovereign more than matched its maneuverability, however, and was not foolish enough to be caught in the Cardassian ship's firing arcs. The Sovereign suddenly increased speed, putting some distance between itself and the Hutet. It turned back, facing directly into the Cardassian warship, and fired four quantum torpedoes straight into the Cardassian vessel. The truly massive amounts of energy unleashed by this attack were almost sufficient to collapse the Hutet's ventral shields, and the Sovereign followed it up with a number of phaser bursts, taking advantage of the havoc wreaked by the torpedoes.

The Hutet however, was now in a better firing position, and released some of her forward batteries, sending a deathly powerful wall of energy at the Sovereign. It hit her shields hard, buckling them in several places and causing a power output drop in the entire shield system. The Sovereign danced out of reach before the Cardassian vessel could fire again. Fortunately, their torpedoes had not been brought to bear. The Sovereign fired several photon torpedoes from her rear batteries, again at the ventral shields of the Hutet, and this time, they collapsed. For a few moments, the Sovereign had the opportunity to strike at the vulnerable hull of the Cardassian ship.

She turned about and brought her powerful forward phaser arrays to bear, and fired repeatedly, carving dark, black swathes across the hull of the Hutet. Then she fired quantum torpedoes. Every one etched a deep hole in the Cardassian ship's hull, and the tactical officer now began to fire at the warp core. If the Sovereign were successful in carving a hole deep enough to destroy the warp core, they would have won the battle. The Sovereign was forced to break off her attack, though, because the Hutet was coming dangerously close to firing her torpedoes, which would do similar damage to the Sovereign.

To avoid this, the Federation ship executed a tight turn and fired an antimatter burst at the Hutet, blinding its sensors for a crucial second. When the energy cleared, the Sovereign was again out of reach. It was at this time that the Hutet launched the Galor class cruiser that usually remained docked to her hull. The intent was to produce two targets for the Sovereign to have to deal with, instead of just one. Brexton was not distracted, however, and brought the Sovereign to bear one final time. She fired quantum torpedoes into the hull of the Hutet, and one of them hit its mark. With a huge explosion that blasted hull fragments into the Sovereign's shields and spread radiation for kilometers, the Hutet exploded.

On the bridge, Evan sighed in relief. The Cardassian Hutet class was a clumsy, but extremely dangerous class of vessel. Brexton had done well. But, as the Sovereign turned about to face the Galor, he discovered that the battle was not yet over.

"Captain, the Galor has set a collision course!" said Hanson in alarm.

"I don't think we can avoid them, Captain," said Brexton. "The Galor is a highly agile vessel."

"Hanson, don't change course!" Evan said. We're going to have to see if he's bluffing."

Thus the two mighty spacecraft were moving in precisely opposite directions at considerable speed. The explosion produced by their collision would be far more than enough to destroy both vessels, and Grant knew it. However, there was little he could do to avoid the vessel, and if he forced them to break off their tactic, the Cardassians would lose any advantage they had. Still, Evan wasn't optimistic about their odds. He suspected that the captain of that Cardassian vessel was going to ram straight into him, and the worst part of the situation was that there was _nothing_ he could do about it.

As the cruiser came closer and closer on the viewscreen, Grant stood up and looked straight at it, not even flinching as he faced the seemingly imminent destruction of his vessel. The cruiser was very close now, and Daniel turned in his chair to say something, but it was too late. Right before Grant's eyes, the battered, but still fast, hull of the Devore, sped between the Galor and the Sovereign. It slammed full speed into the Cardassian vessel, it's hull buckling and tearing.

"Drop shields and beam everyone you can off NOW!" Grant shouted urgently.

Daniel did the best he could, but both vessels exploded in a matter of seconds. The Cardassian ship had been knocked off course by the impact of the smaller Federation science vessel, and this was fortunate, as the Sovereign flew through the space that her enemy had just been occupying at full impulse. Brexton was forced to raise shields again before the explosion hit the Sovereign. After the shockwave had passed, Evan turned to face Daniel, his face ashen and pale.

"Did you get anyone?" he asked slowly.

Daniel looked back at him with great sorrow. "No, sir," he replied softly. "The transporters couldn't lock on quickly enough," he said. Evan sunk back into his chair, stunned. Helen had been one of his closest friends. Now, he realized, she was gone, as was everyone else on the Devore. He and the Sovereign had failed.

"Captain!" said Daniel, his face incredulous. "I'm picking up several escape pods in the vicinity. She must have ordered the crew to abandon ship before this happened. Almost thirty life signs, out of a crew of forty three."

"Let's beam them out," Evan said. He hoped, and he almost hated himself for it, that Helen would not be among the dead. Somehow, though, he knew that she would be. She was too determined and too hotheaded to leave the ship. If Evan knew her, she had stayed behind, and piloted the Devore into the Galor. It was a valorous sacrifice, he thought, remembering a Vulcan proverb.

"The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few. Or the one," he recited to himself. He rose from his chair and left the bridge.

He went to the observation deck, and stood looking out at the stars. He paced back and forth for a time, and then just stopped and stood, watching the stars go by as the Sovereign moved.

His comm. badge beeped, and with a great effort he tapped it. "Daniel here, sir," he said. "The captain was not among the survivors, sir. Neither was any of the senior staff, except for the engineer, who only survived because he was farther back in the vessel. Those in the forward sections didn't have enough time to get out."

"Thank you, Mr. Hader," Evan said slowly. "If you don't mind, I'll be leaving the shift for a little while," he said.

There was a pause on the other end, and Daniel said "Of course, sir. We'll hold things down over here."

"Thank you," Grant said, and stopped there. He tapped his comm. badge, closing the channel. Then, he sat down in a chair, and covered his head in his hands. He mourned for his lost friend, and tried to pull himself together for the next phase of the mission. He hadn't been there long, when the doors to the observation room slid open again, and he heard footsteps enter the room. He didn't look up, but he knew who it was.

"There was nothing we could do, Evan," Ashley said compassionately.

"I know, I know," Evan said softly. "But that doesn't make it any easier," he said.

"I understand," she said, sitting down next to him. "I know what it feels like to lose someone you care about, especially like this. You just have to keep going," she said, and put her hand on his arm. He turned to face her, and looked deep into her eyes. There were no tears in them, he saw, just a deep sorrow and a painful memory. And maybe something else, he thought, as he looked a little deeper.

He began to wonder if he'd been missing something very obvious ever since she'd joined his crew. Before he could decide, he turned away, and said gently: "I'd like to be alone for a little while."

"Of course," Ashley said. "If you need anything, or want to talk, just let me know." She stood up and walked softly out of the room. She paused at the door, looked back at Evan for a long moment, then left.

End of Part IPart II

Evan sat for almost three hours, remembering their long hours studying together in the academy, the many hours they had spent in the flight simulator practicing together, and the times that their last minute resourcefulness had conquered yet another difficult scenario cooked up by the trainers at Starfleet. Suddenly, he felt better. Helen's life had been a treasure to all those who had known her, and he did no more honor to her memory by mourning over her death than by carrying on the traditions that she had worked so hard to maintain and protect. He stood up, put aside his grief, and returned to the bridge.

His senior staff was there waiting for him, taking on an extra shift just to get the job done. He sat, refocused, in his chair, straightening his uniform, as was his habit. He swiveled his chair to face his first officer.

"Ashley, do you have everything you need from command?" he asked.

"Yes, sir," she said. "I've downloaded all the relevant files, on, well, everything. We're good to go for comm. silence from here on in."

Evan nodded. For once in a frightfully long time, he was leaving Federation space. He turned his chair to face Hanson.

"Begin comm. silence, and continue until we leave Cardassian space," he said. "It's critical that they don't realize we're here."

Hanson nodded. "Shutting down transponder signal. Ceasing all ambient communications with Starfleet, and locking down the mail system. The Cardassians won't hear a peep out of us, sir," he said.

"Brexton, keep us on alert level high-green. Be ready to power up weapons and shields at a moment's notice," Evan said. "Daniel, just keep an eye out for any Cardassian ships." He turned to face Ashley once more. "Any other suggestions, Commander?" he asked, smiling.

"I recommend we keep to low warp speeds, sir," she said. "Even the Cardassians could spot a Sovereign class ship moving at high warp."

Evan nodded to Hanson, who was looking at him for authorization of the order. "Set a course for the anomaly," Evan said.

"Course laid in, sir. Warp three," Hanson said.

Evan crossed his legs. "Take us in," he said.

The Sovereign turned to face her new course, and stretched out, sidestepping the laws of physics and punching a hole in subspace. The senior staff went about their respective businesses, and Evan went into his ready room. There was little he could do but wait, and so he did. In a few moments, he was deeply absorbed in a book, one that his father had sent him over the comm. shortly after he left drydock.

Soon, though, he could focus no longer and paced about the room, thinking about Starfleet, and more generally, the Federation. He was beginning to be concerned about its ability to last. The Federation had recently been challenged by every significant power in the quadrant. The Cardassians, the Romulans, the Klingons, the Dominion, and the Borg. Starfleet had suffered heavy losses at all of their hands, and the fleet had begun to receive a desperately needed chance to rebuild. While the Federation controlled a vast area of space, spanning almost eight thousand light years, and containing almost four hundred member worlds, her might could not last against the combined forces of so many races. Not forever. When the Borg decided to mount a serious invasion, Grant knew it was well beyond Starfleet's power to defeat them. The only way the Federation could hope to stand the test of time, he considered, would be to make a great discovery. Something of such vast power that _nothing_ could defeat it. Except perhaps Q, he thought whimsically, remembering the godlike ruler of the universe. He was distracted from these thoughts when the door to his ready room beeped.

"Come in," he said.

Ashley came in. "We're approaching the anomaly, sir," she said.

Evan nodded, and joined her at the door. They walked back onto the bridge and took their seats.

"Running close range scans of the anomaly, sir," said Daniel. "My educated guess is that we won't get much more than the Devore did. It's too old."

"Nevertheless," Evan said, "let's give it our best shot."

Daniel peered at the console for a time, and then said, "Well, if I can interpret these readings correctly, and there is a good chance I can't, the signature points vaguely toward Sac'rah. We might as well start there," he said.

"I agree," said Ashley. "It's our best chance to find an inhabited world, one with people that will have a clue as to what's going on," she speculated.

Daniel's monitor beeped twice, insistently. He turned rapidly to face Evan. "Whatever you're going to do," he said, "Do it fast. Three Cardassian warships are patrolling on a course that will take them in sensor range of us within two minutes."

"Set a course for Sac'rah," Evan said. "Warp four. Let's go." The Sovereign warped yet again, evading the patrol that could very well have caused an abrupt end to her mission. Later, of course, Evan would reflect that perhaps they would have been better off being towed to Federation space than where the Sovereign would eventually venture. Evan stood up. "Ashley, do you have a moment?" he asked. She nodded, surprised. "In my ready room," he said, and nodded to the appropriate door.

She followed him inside, and the remaining bridge crew cast intrigued glances at each other.

Evan turned to face her after the doors closed, and they began to talk. "Ashley," he said, "Don't you think it's a bit strange that we're almost intercepted by a large Cardassian patrol mere minutes after arriving at the border?"

"Well, I think it's a little unusual, but then again, the Cardassians aggressively guard their borders. They always have. It's not terribly surprising that we'd have a close call now and then," she said.

"But come on!" Grant said, suddenly angry. He started to pace. "Three Keldon class warships, coming at us the second we arrive in Cardassian space. We just fought a war with these people. Those are high-class warships! The Cardassians don't just have a stock of them lying around that they use to patrol their borders! Starfleet forbade their rearmament until such time as Command saw fit to end their punishment! That has to be the bulk of the Cardassian fleet out here! That Hutet class warship was quite likely the most powerful vessel the Cardassians had…. and the Devore stumbles across it just as we're about to arrive. Something is going on here."

"Do you think someone warned them?" she asked cautiously.

"I don't know," Evan said, irritated. "It's possible that we've been tracked somehow, maybe by a freighter watching our launch or some other type of vessel we didn't notice hovering around drydock."

"We ran a scan of the outer hull, before we left drydock," she said. "It's difficult to believe something just latched on without us knowing it, so I doubt it's an active tracking device. Somebody on the payroll of the Cardassian government probably tipped them off that a large Federation battleship would be poking around their borders sometime soon. And some rogue Cardassian governor decided this would be a perfect chance to humiliate the Federation."

"It could be someone aboard, sending a covert radiation signal," Evan said thoughtfully.

"That would explain why the Cardassians always seem just a few steps behind," Ashley said. "Those are slow, faint, signals. You run a tight ship though, it's hard to believe that anyone onboard would be a saboteur. If that was the case, it would have to be someone in engineering, and I can't think of anyone who seems particularly untrustworthy."

"We'll just have to keep a closer eye on everything," Evan said. "I hope it's nothing, and it could just be an occurrence of Murphy's Law, but if there is someone passing on information to the Cardassians, we can't afford to ignore him."

Ashley nodded, troubled. "We really don't want to be found in Cardassian space," She said. "If we are spotted by the Empire, we could derail the entire peace process, and I doubt Starfleet would appreciate that," she said.

Ending their conversation, the two officers returned to the bridge. "Approaching Sac'rah, sir," Hanson said.

"On screen," Grant said. A class M planet materialized on the view screen, an earthlike planet with a lot of water. It turned placidly. There were no outward signs of intelligent life, no orbiting satellites or glowing lights on the surface, and no visible structures. Absolutely no glaring signs of a technologically advanced civilization.

"Mr. Hader?" Grant asked.

"I'm not reading any life signs, sir," he said.

Grant frowned. The planet had large green blotches on many continents, as if plant life existed down there. He found it difficult to believe there was no life of any kind.

"Any indication of a cloaking device, or some sort of planetary mask?" Grant asked.

"The only clear readings I'm receiving from the surface are high neutrino emissions. A cloak could conceivably cause them, but they aren't steady, almost like there's some natural energy source emitting them. No artificial structures on the planet's surface, although, the readings I'm getting are a little contradictory. They aren't what I'd expect from a class M planet."

"Hanson, hail the planet's surface," Grant said.

"Channel open, sir," Hanson said.

"This is Captain Evan Grant of the Starship Sovereign. I am a representative of the United Federation of Planets. Please respond."

"Captain!" said Brexton. "Two spacecraft of an unknown configuration are emerging from behind the planet! They are approaching on an attack vector!"

Evan turned to face Ashley. "Red alert," he said quickly. "Divert emergency power to shields," he ordered. "Target the lead vessel but hold your fire," Grant said. "Hanson, open a channel to the attacking ships."

"Open, sir," he said.

"This is Captain Evan Grant of the Federation starship Sovereign," he said again. "Please identify yourselves," he said. The ships continued toward the Sovereign, giving no sign that they had heard the hail. "Cease your approach or you will be fired upon," he said.

"They're still coming," Brexton reported.

"Daniel, get whatever scans you can of those vessels," Grant said. "They won't be around much longer," he finished, looking aggressively at his new opponents.

"Incoming!" Brexton said, as two blue projectiles from each vessel were launched toward the Sovereign. Grant braced himself for impact, and the crew visibly tensed as the weapons fire hit. The ship shuddered slightly, and Brexton said "Minimal damage. Our forward shields are down to eighty percent, but appear stable."

"Return fire," Grant said.

Phasers lanced out from the Sovereign at the lead vessel, and quantum torpedoes were not far behind. They impacted on the ship, and its shields flared to life. The ship visibly increased speed, and changed course, flanking the Sovereign. The other ship moved in the other direction. They closed even further, and suddenly yellow beams of energy lanced forward, striking both the nacelles of the Sovereign. The ship rocked wildly back and forth, and the volley did far more damage than Grant had expected.

"Report!" he said as a console erupted into sparks.

"Our port and starboard shields are down fifty percent!" Brexton said. "Those beam weapons are like nothing I've ever seen!" He sounded impressed, which, Evan knew, wasn't a good sign.

The Sovereign fired a few token phaser blasts back at the opponent and continued maneuvering. "Sir, these are considerable warships," Brexton said. "I recommend we withdraw, before we get too damaged," he said.

"I'm not leaving this solar system without some answers," Grant said, gritting his teeth. "Ashley, take whatever command staff you need to the auxiliary bridge," he said. "I think it's time we surprised our opponents."

Ashley nodded, and gestured for Hanson to accompany her to the aux-bridge. A lieutenant took his place, and Brexton made preparations for the order he knew the captain was about to give.

The ship rocked again, and Brexton glanced at his panel.

"The enemy vessels have engaged a tractor beam!" he said. "Right where the seam is, too," he said, smirking. "They'll get a surprise in a moment. Wait a second," he said. "They're disengaging the beam. He winced. "Another volley," he said, as the Sovereign rocked again.

"Go to full impulse," Grant said. The Sovereign leapt forward, quickly putting some distance between her and the alien ships.

"Now," Grant said, "Set a collision course."

"Sir?" asked the helm officer.

"Just do it, lieutenant," said Grant, and the lieutenant turned back to the controls. The Sovereign came about, and set a collision course for the lead enemy vessel.

Onboard the enemy ship, the captain watched in disbelief as the Sovereign headed straight for him. "Is he insane?" he asked no one in particular. "Hold your course," he instructed his pilot. The ships closed rapidly, and it became clear that Grant had no intention of breaking off. Neither did the captain of the enemy ship. The aforementioned raised his chin defiantly as the saucer section of the Sovereign grew huge.

"NOW!" Grant said, on the bridge of the Sovereign.

Much to the captain of the enemy ship's consternation, the Sovereign split in two and changed course slightly, sending each half directly above and below his vessel. The two sections fired a volley of torpedoes and phasers at point blank range. The bridge of the enemy ship fell apart before the captain's eyes, and he immediately ordered a retreat. He could not allow his vessel to be destroyed. His two dark gray, sleek vessels, warped out, leaving the Sovereign in peace.

On the bridge of the Sovereign, Grant let out a sigh of relief as the viewscreen showed the two vessels warping out. That had been one battle with high stakes, higher than most in his career. "Brexton," he said. "Let's put the Sovereign back together again."

Brexton nodded, and the reintegration sequence commenced. A few moments later, Ashley and Hanson were back on the bridge, and it appeared as though nothing had happened a few moments ago.

"Well," Hanson said. "No response from the planet."

"Even after our rude interruption?" Grant said. "Good. I was afraid this was going to be easy."

Ashley grinned at his resolve. "Can we send an away team?" she asked.

Daniel studied his readings of the planet. "The atmosphere is Earth-like," he said. "Gravity is well within safety standards, if a little bit off. The temperature on parts of the surface is about what it is here," he said. "An away team should be fine, but I wouldn't recommend using a transporter, at least not on the way down. The signal could be scrambled by the neutrino radiation."

"Well, I'm getting really fond of shuttles," Grant said sarcastically. "Looks like I'll get another ride."

The crew smiled. Grant stood up. "Hanson, Daniel, you're with me," he said. "We're going on an away mission."

"Brexton, have a shuttle ready for us," Grant said.

Brexton nodded and tapped some controls, as Grant and the others stepped into the turbolift. "Number one, you have the bridge," Grant said.

Ashley took the center chair. "Low orbit," she said, as the doors closed. "Let's see if we can get some decent scans while they're gone." The crew hurried around the bridge, carrying out her orders.

Evan powered up the shuttle's engines and transmitted access codes to the shuttle bay door. It slid open, and Evan piloted the small craft slowly out of the hangar.

Hanson was his copilot, and Daniel was in the back replicating equipment they might need and readying the shuttle for landing.

"Prepare the navigational shields for atmospheric entry," Evan said.

"Aye, sir," Hanson said. "Where are we going to touch down?" he asked.

"The largest continent looks like the most hospitable area," he said. "We might as well start there." He accelerated the shuttle toward the planet, and Hanson made the necessary adjustments. The shuttle began to rock from side to side as they entered the atmosphere, and Evan diverted more power to the inertial dampeners to compensate. The ride smoothed out slightly. Soon they were well within the atmosphere, and Grant slowed their craft, stopping the shuttle's descent and surveying the surface. The ground beneath them was covered in green plant life, and Daniel raised his eyebrows as he watched the sensor console.

"Looks like the ground cover uses both chlorophyll and photosynthesis," he said. "A lot like home. I'm picking up signs of animal life and what may be artificial structures nearby. The neutrino emissions aren't interfering with our scans as much at this altitude. Fifty kilometers to the north, sir," he said.

Evan changed course, and the shuttle soon arrived at the structures Daniel had detected. "There's some kind of masking device on them," Daniel said. "I can't get any clear readings. I suspect we'll have to go inside before sensors are of any use," he said, shaking his head.

"I'll put the shuttle down about five hundred meters away," Grant said. "Just in case there's somebody home." He piloted the shuttle away from the structure and slowly touched down. "Gentlemen, I'd recommend that if we see anyone, we don't make contact, at least until we find out if this civilization is warp capable," Grant said. "I'd rather not violate the prime directive needlessly."

The two officers nodded, and Grant opened the shuttle door. They watched as a green, fairly flat landscape was revealed, contrasting with the shiny gray metal of the retreating door. There were sounds of birdlike animals nearby, and large plants rustled in a strong breeze. If the species had been somewhat different, Grant might have believed he was on Earth. They stepped out into the light, blinking their eyes as they accustomed themselves to the bright sun of Sac'rah. It was brighter than Earth's. Grant drew his tricorder, and began passively scanning for radiation sources. They were coming from the structure that Daniel had spotted.

"Let's go," he said, and the two officers followed him as he walked toward the structure.

"Any luck with the sensors?" Ashley asked.

"No, ma'am," replied a nearby ensign. "I can get a fix on the away team, but I can't get clear readings nearby. A data feed is starting to come in from Grant's tricorder, but it's weak and unreliable. All I can give you is their position. I don't think we could beam them back from there, either."

"What about the nearby space?" she asked. "Any phenomenon of scientific or tactical interest?"

"There is a cerulean nebula nearby, Commander," the ensign said. "A few million kilometers from the fourth planet in the system. We wouldn't be able to detect anything in there, and if we entered it, shields and sensors would be nonfunctional."

"We might be able to use that to hide, if necessary," Brexton suggested. Ashley nodded.

"There are active energy surges in the nebula, sir," the ensign said to Brexton. "Without shields there is the potential to take serious damage if we went in there," he said.

"Still," Ashley said. "If the Cardassians show up, I'd rather be there than here."

The ensign nodded glumly.

"Well, let's cross that bridge when we get there," Brexton said. "There's no reason to think they'd come poking around here."

Ashley almost spoke, but held her peace, at least for the time being.

"Captain," said the ensign. "I have an idea that might help with the sensors. I'll need to talk to the chief engineer about reconfiguring the deflector."

Ashley nodded. "Go ahead, Hawkwood," she said, casually using the last name of the ensign. Her full name was Lara Hawkwood, and she was a capable scientist, a fact contradicted by her low rank. "Any improvement would be welcome." She put her hands on her hips and waited.

Evan stepped up to the round, cylindrical building and put his hand on the surface. It was clearly constructed of metal, he realized, as the hot material burned his hands slightly. He pulled back and scanned it.

"Amazing," Daniel said, looking at his own tricorder readings. "Even at point blank range their scramblers still work. If I weren't seeing this I wouldn't be able to tell if there was a rock or an elephant right here," he said.

"Captain, over here!" said Hanson, some distance away. "This may be an entrance, sir," he clarified as they approached.

Grant and Daniel walked around the building until they reached Hanson, who was standing in front of a large, rectangular seam in the smooth surface of the building.

Grant tapped his comm. badge. "Sovereign, please respond," he said. Only silence was the reply. "I guess the neutrinos are jamming our comm. signals as well. Well disguised planet we've stumbled across, I think." He stepped closer to the door.

There were no visible controls or apertures. He studied the door for a moment, and then reached out his hand and touched it. Nothing happened. As he turned away, a loud shifting noise could be heard, and the door suddenly slid inward, then sideways and out of the way. "Sometimes, the obvious works best," he said, and stepped slowly inside, holstering his tricorder and drawing his phaser.

The room into which he entered was cool and dimly lit. His footsteps echoed across a high roof, and an incredibly smooth tiled floor. As he looked down, he noticed that he could even see his reflection in it. The chamber was partitioned into several sections, each with its fair share of glowing control screens.

Daniel walked up to one, and examined the screen carefully. "Plasma screen displays," he said. "Comparable to Starfleet technology." He took out his tricorder and started scanning. He blew out a sigh of relief. "Now I'm getting something," he said. "This place is an enormous generator of some sort," he continued. "Almost two hundred meters in height!"

Evan began scanning as well, and he noticed several strange apertures near the top of the structure. "I think this is what's emitting the neutrinos," he said. "At least around here, anyway."

Hanson, over at another display, said, "I think this might answer a few questions, sir." Evan and Daniel turned to look. Evan walked over to the display. It appeared to be a map of the planet. There were alien characters on the screen, and hundreds of dots all over the map.

"More generators?" asked Evan.

"Possibly," Hanson said. "I'll run the tricorder over this a few more times and see if I can translate the language. You guys check this place out a little more," he suggested. Evan nodded.

"Strange," he said, walking toward a likely place for another door. "No life signs of any kind. This must be a completely automated facility."

"And light security, at that," Daniel said. "No evidence of intruder alarms, internal sensors, or anything."

"Well," Grant said. "It appears that the entire purpose of this facility is to conceal the presence of everything on this planet, so I'd imagine that they don't get too many visitors. They might consider it a waste of resources to guard these facilities. That could work to our advantage," Grant continued.

"Or not," Daniel muttered under his breath. Suddenly Evan stopped dead, right in front of him.

"Sir-?" he started to ask, but was immediately hushed by Grant.

Evan listened very carefully for a moment, and then without any outward appearance of surprise, said, "Drop!" And threw himself to the ground. Daniel followed his example as well, and a good thing too. An energy blast whizzed over their heads. Without waiting for it to fire again, Evan ran to the best cover he could find, and Daniel took up a position behind a different bulkhead.

"What was it?" he yelled.

"A trap," Evan said warily.

"See that small notch in the wall over there?" he asked, pointing in the appropriate direction. Daniel nodded. "It's a weapon," Grant finished, setting his phaser. Suddenly another blast smashed into the wall by Daniel, and he quickly ducked back under cover and drew his phaser. Setting it to level five, he took aim and fired, almost at the same time as Grant, who had done the same. Their well-aimed shots both hit the weapon, and it gave out a shower of sparks, then was silent.

"Well…" Daniel said, "maybe the security wasn't as light as we thought?"

Evan grimaced. "Maybe not," he said. His comm. badge beeped, and he tapped it. "Hanson here, sir," came the ensign's voice. "Everything all right over there?"

"We're fine," Grant said. "We just tripped a security system of some sort, but it's disabled now. Carry on, Ensign," he finished.

They resumed their previous direction, heading down a corridor to what appeared to be a dead end. Evan suspected that there was another inconspicuous door there. As they approached, he spotted another notch in the wall, and before it could even activate, Evan and Daniel fired their phasers straight into it, neutralizing the device.

They came to the end of the passage, and Grant could see another seam, although it was not as well illuminated as the one outside had been. "Here goes," he said, and put his hand on it. He gave a cry of pain and pulled back his hand quickly.

"Captain?" Daniel asked worriedly.

"Shocked," he said, holding his hand and wincing. "I'll be fine."

Daniel took out his tricorder and began to scan the door. "This one has some kind of a receiver on it," he said, and took off his comm. badge, interfacing it with the tricorder. He started a program that would try a number of frequencies and codes, a sort of hacking system. Hopefully it wouldn't be too long before the device hit on the right signal.

"Now, we wait," he said, and sat down against one of the walls. Grant, nursing his hand, sat on the other side, and looked over his scans of the structure they were in.

"It doesn't seem as if their technology is related to our persistent attackers," Grant said. "For example, this building is made out of an alloy that has no evident link to the metals on either the drone that attacked the ship, or the life sign simulating devices we found on board the Prometheus."

"You think we're barking up the wrong tree?" Daniel asked.

"Not necessarily," Grant said. "It's just that I don't think these are the people behind the attacks on the Federation. That doesn't mean they won't know something useful."

"I hope they do," Daniel said. "We have some pretty pathetic leads to work with right now. Judging by this place, we certainly won't be startling these people with our technology, if we ever find them. This place is one of the most advanced facilities I've ever seen, and I've seen a few," he continued. "It's not often you come across a system that can hide the entire surface of a planet from the prying eyes of a Federation 'science' vessel. The Sovereign's sensor systems are some of the most advanced in the quadrant, and we couldn't even find this place without landing. It's no wonder the Cardassians never landed here," he said. "Nothing of interest."

"Though it does seem strange that such a civilization would develop on a single planet. I wonder if the Cardassians—" Before he could finish, the tricorder beeped and the door slid aside, more rapidly than the other one had.

Daniel and Evan exchanged glances, then hurried in. Daniel, luckily, didn't forget to pick up his tricorder and comm. badge. It had recorded the proper signal, and Daniel realized that might come in handy later. Shortly after they walked through the door, it slammed shut again.

"Doesn't look like we found anything too exciting," Daniel said, looking around. "Not another control room, anyway," he said.

"Look up," Grant said slowly, staring up at the ceiling himself.

Daniel craned his neck skywards, and was startled to see large, colorful discharges of energy swirling about the domed roof of the tower.

"I think this is where the neutrinos are emitted," Grant said.

"Incredible," Daniel said simply. "That's something you don't see every day," he marveled.

He turned to look at the captain, but Evan was already walking up a short flight of stairs to a platform that overlooked the tall chamber they were in. Daniel could see a control mechanism at the top. Grant scanned it, looked down at Daniel, and said, "I think this may control the power output of the facility. And there's another button here," he said, looking at a different location. "Even the tricorder can't guess what it does," he said, shaking his head.

"One way to find out," Daniel said.

"You know what they say about pushing strange buttons at the Academy, don't you?" Grant said, amused.

"Come on, sir," Daniel said. "This is what we're out here for. Besides, in a place like this, I'd die happy."

Grant shook his head. "Have it your way," he said, smiling. "Just remember, I'll make sure Starfleet knows this was your idea," he joked. Without further ado, he pressed the button.

Daniel watched in shock as the room transformed itself. All around the circular wall of the structure, Metal slots turned transparent, and began to rotate and open. It made a considerable din, and both Grant and Daniel looked around the room in equal surprise. Evan jogged down from the platform to join Daniel on the main floor. Exchanging glances, the two of them walked to the wall, or rather, what had been the wall, and what now seemed to be a huge row of thousands upon thousands of medium sized closets.

As they approached one, Grant could see the figure of what looked at first like an alien. As he came closer, it became apparent that the silvery skin he had imagined he'd seen was metal. It was some kind of armor. He stepped up close to it now, and he could see it was a robot of some kind. He stepped back hurriedly as racks of them extended from each storage area. They were now in the light, and it was obvious that the drones were meant for battle. Their bodies were roughly humanoid in appearance, but their arms ended in triple barrels. They had elongated heads that were loaded with sensors and other equipment that was a mystery to Grant.

"What is this?" Daniel whispered in awe.

"It's an army," Grant said, stunned. "A big one," he finished lamely.

"But what could these people possibly need an army for?" Daniel wondered aloud. "Their planet is hidden with extreme care, their entire strategy seems to rest on remaining hidden. Why build an army?"

"Maybe this isn't for defense," Evan said. "Perhaps, they have something far more sinister planned for these units," he speculated.

"The Federation?" Daniel asked.

"I doubt it," Evan said. "They have no reason to attack us," he continued. "If indications are any guide, they don't even know we exist," he said.

"Then who?" Daniel asked.

"I don't know," Grant said unhappily. "Maybe we should ask them."

"Right," Daniel said. "We'd just better make it damn clear that our intentions aren't hostile, as long as they aren't the ones who launched the attack. I don't fancy the idea of tangling with these guys," he said, nodding toward the drones.

Grant jogged back up to the platform before the drones could do anything more.

"Like activate," he thought. He pressed the button again, and the racks of troops began to retract. The doors of the storage areas whirred shut, and the staging lights that had come on when Grant pressed the button went out, returning the room to a dreary darkness. The sounds of energy discharges could be heard again above their heads. His comm. badge beeped.

"Hanson here, sir," the ensign said. "I think you might want to come back and take a look at this, sir," he said.

"I'm on my way," he said. Grant rejoined Daniel at the floor of the vast chamber. Looking around one last time, he put away his tricorder and they walked from the room, their footsteps echoing across it. When they reached the door, Daniel drew his tricorder, and transmitted the access code. The door slid open once more, and they continued down the hall back to the chamber where they had left Hanson.

"If I'm not mistaken," Grant said, "things have just become a great deal more complicated. And perhaps dangerous." He heard the door whoosh shut behind them, and the two officers now entered the control chamber. Hanson was still at the main display, watching them come. He transmitted a short translation program to Grant's tricorder, and as he moved it over the text on the screen, the appropriate translation was displayed on the tricorder.

When he scanned the key at the bottom of the map screen that was lit up with hundreds of dots, it read "Military and masking bunkers."

His eyes widened. "Perhaps that force we saw is just a tiny fraction of their actual army," Grant realized. The bottom of the display screen read "Bunker three hundred forty-one, hybrid function building."

Daniel, reading the screen over Grant's shoulder, shook his head. "If they go in strict numerical order," he said, "I think we have a true galactic force on our hands. These people could fundamentally change the bEvance of power in the Alpha Quadrant," he thought out loud.

"This planet must have incredible resources," Evan said. "Plus, replication technology is a must for making an army like that. Either they have a huge amount of raw materials, or a very powerful energy source. Either way, I'm sure Starfleet will be interested in making contact with these beings. The job will fall to us."

"Good work translating," Daniel said to Hanson. "I'm glad we decided to investigate this planet."

"Did you two find anything interesting?" Hanson asked.

"You have no idea," Daniel said shaking his head. "I'll explain later. We have to get back to the shuttle so that we can launch a transmission."

"We don't want Ashley to think we've all gotten lost," Evan said, agreeing with Daniel. "Let's go," he said, and headed for the door. The two senior officers fell into step behind him. When he reached the door, Grant placed his hand on it once more. This time, the door slid toward the outside and slid to the opposite side it had before. Grant shook his head in amazement. He couldn't wait to meet the people who had built this place. He blinked his eyes again in the bright sunlight, and began the brief hike back to the shuttle.

Ashley paced about the bridge, waiting for news about the sensor modifications. It had been too long since Evan had left, and she was getting worried. Their transmissions to the away team were blocked by neutrino radiation, and she suspected the reverse was true as well. Until they sent a transmission from the shuttle's more powerful subspace transceiver, she could do little.

Suddenly, the viewscreen flared to life, displaying the face of Vu'ton, the Sovereign's Vulcan chief engineer. "Commander, we are ready to bring the modifications online," he said gravely. "Ensign Hawkwood should return to the bridge momentarily. Diverting power to sensors, now," he said, his hand playing rapidly over an engineering control console.

The doors to the turbolift slid open, and Lara returned to her seat at the science station. "Bringing modified sensors online," she said, tapping a few buttons. Ashley turned her head, surprised. She hadn't thought that it would be necessary to hit any bridge controls, and that the engineer could have done it all from engineering. Ashley was about to ask when she noticed that Lara was peering intently at the console. The ensign made a few tweaks, and blinked her eyes rapidly. "Commander, I think you should see this," she said.

Ashley walked over to the console, almost afraid to look. She looked at the display, and sighed as she saw almost seventy-five life signs in the vicinity of the shuttle's landing point.

"What have they gotten themselves into now?" she thought out loud.

Evan opened the hatch of the shuttlecraft and walked inside, Hanson and Daniel not far behind. He sat down at the pilot's seat and opened a subspace channel to the Sovereign. "Ashley here," came the response.

"Sorry we took so long," Grant said apologetically. "We stumbled across some rather interesting facts," he continued.

"Listen, sir," Ashley interrupted. "We've detected several life signs in the—" The transmission crackled and ended.

"Number one, are you there?" Grant asked, not really expecting a response. Evan stood up and raised his tricorder. No reliable readings. He gestured to Daniel and Hanson to stay in the shuttle, and walked back to the hatch at a fast pace. He walked outside and looked cautiously around the most inaccessible side of the shuttle.

"Captain!" came a voice from the shuttle. Evan couldn't tell which one of the two officers had called him, but he turned back, only to feel something circular, and metal, pressed against the back of his head.

"Asheg Maati," he heard, as someone behind him spoke. While the universal translator hadn't picked the language up yet, the message was clear; don't move, or else. Grant froze, and a strong arm reached from behind, grabbing the hand that held his tricorder. The alien took it, then reached for Grant's phaser. He stayed motionless as the alien removed it, then was spun around, coming face to face with it.

"You're coming with us," it said. Five more of the aliens brought out Hanson and Daniel, and as they were marched away, several more entered the shuttle. The aliens were humanoid in build, but were slightly larger than he and his officers. They appeared to be wearing some sort of armor, perhaps, Grant thought, made of the same metal as the armor on the drones he had seen in the neutrino emitter. They had distinctive patterns on their skin and skull ridges that were different from any Grant had ever seen before.

"Who are you?" the alien behind him asked gruffly.

"My name is Evan Grant," the captain said carefully. "I'm a representative of the United Federation of Planets." The grip on his arms eased slightly, and the alien slowed. "You're not Cardassian?" he asked slowly.

Grant hesitated, not sure what to make of this strange question. "Does it look like it?" he asked in reply.

"Appearances can be altered," the alien said. "In the name of the Rowaawan Defense Force, I am placing you and your comrades under arrest," he continued. "At least until the commander can talk to you." He continued to shove Grant toward a hover vehicle a few feet away. Evan noticed that Daniel and Hanson were each taken to a separate vehicle, before the guard shoved him in his. He was escorted to the back of the vehicle, a frugal, utilitarian affair.

"Stay here," the guard said, and walked back to the front of the vehicle. He touched a control, and a forcefield activated in the rear compartment. Grant sat down on a small bench and started planning for many eventualities, as the vehicle sped off toward some unknown destination. The guard had stripped him of every piece of equipment he carried, even his comm. badge, leaving only the universal translator chip embedded in his ear.

Ashley sat in the captain's chair, carefully considering her next move. She didn't want to act too hastily, given that she had no way of knowing the aliens' intentions toward Grant and the others. If they weren't hostile, she could permanently destroy any chance that Grant and his crew had to make a good first impression, if she launched a military operation to recover the three officers. On the other hand, they had just jammed a subspace transmission to her vessel, and, judging by the sensor readings they were now gathering, taken the away team into custody and confiscated their equipment. Of course, the same thing would likely have occurred on Earth, if an armed team of unknown aliens had suddenly appeared on the planet. She decided that they would monitor the away team carefully, and at the first sign of actual, physical, danger to the team, she would attempt to rescue them. Until then, they would have to come up with a plan to contact them. A sudden statement from Brexton interrupted her train of thought.

"Commander!" he said urgently. "Three Cardassian warships just entered the system!"

"What?" Ashley asked, startled. "We should have detected them long before now!"

She glanced at Ensign Hawkwood, who looked very confused. "Commander, I don't know what happened, they just appeared on scopes at the edge of the system, they weren't on sensors until just now!"

Ashley would deal with the ensign later. For now, it appeared they had other problems. "Brexton?" she asked.

"Three Keldon class battleships, closing fast," he said.

"We don't stand a chance," Ashley said. "Break orbit." The Sovereign broke her steady, circling course around Sac'rah and increased speed, fleeing the Cardassian onslaught. "Red Alert!" Ashley said. "All hands to battle stations!" The red alert siren shrieked as the Sovereign's defenses powered up. "Set a course for the nebula," she told the ensign at the helm. "Full impulse."

The Sovereign changed course, now heading for the deep blue nebula, in an effort to evade the Cardassians. Her impulse engines roared to life, accelerating her to just barely sublight speed in a matter of seconds. The vessel's Cochrane field strained to maintain temporal equilibrium at such relativistic speeds. The Cardassian vessels powered up their own impulse engines, and pursued the Sovereign. The Federation ship had a considerable head start, however, and the Cardassians were not within weapons range.

"Brexton, arm several quantum warheads and drop them out the back. Set for proximity detonation," Ashley ordered. "They'll get a surprise if they chase us too carelessly," she said defiantly, as Brexton's hands moved over the tactical console, deftly carrying out her orders.

Seven, small, black objects were jettisoned from the Sovereign's rear torpedo tubes, and were dispersed into space as the Cardassian ships fell into line behind the Sovereign. The nebulae, the Sovereign, and the Cardassian force now formed a straight line, with the Sovereign about halfway between the Cardassians and the nebula.

"Rear view on screen," Ashley said, and the viewscreen obediently displayed the rear part of the saucer section and the Sovereign's long, graceful warp nacelles, a view marred only by the sight of several Cardassian warships in the distance. And several small black objects that she wouldn't have spotted had she not been looking for them.

"It doesn't look like the Cardassians noticed the launch," Brexton said hopefully.

"We're five minutes from the nebula," said Ensign Henley at the helm. "Cardassians are closing slowly," he continued. "They will be within weapons range in four minutes."

"The Cardassians are approaching the minefield," Brexton said. "They are not changing course. Looks like their sensors are ignoring the warheads, as we hoped. Detonation in twenty seconds. 10… 5… 3, 2, 1, _now_!" he said, as a bright flash of energy obscured the Cardassian warships. "Significant damage inflicted on the lead vessel," Brexton said with satisfaction. "They are not changing course."

"Three minutes from the nebula," Henley said. "Two minutes until the Cardassians enter weapons range."

"Divert all emergency power to engines," Ashley said.

"Commander, we'll be putting a serious strain on the engines if we do that," Henley said.

"If we don't," Ashley said slowly, "The Cardassians will, now divert that power!"

"Aye," Henley said. The ship lurched forward as the impulse engines strained themselves to the very limit. Ashley could feel the ship vibrating beneath her feet, pushed slightly beyond its design specifications.

"Nebula in one minute," Henley said. "Cardassians attempting to match speed."

Ashley nodded in satisfaction. "They can't handle this speed safely either," she thought.

"Entering corona," Lara said as the ship began to rock slightly, sustaining the impact of millions of tiny particles on her shields.

"On screen," Ashley said, and the viewer returned to a forward view, displaying a twisting, glowing, bright blue cloud of gas, and small energy flares, as charged particles bounced off the shields.

A relay blew out, sending sparks showering from an unimportant display. Several of them showered onto Ashley's arm, and she shook them off the sleeve of her uniform. "Report!" she requested.

"Shields are ionizing as the charged particles impact them," Lara said. "If we keep them online much longer, the generators may burn out."

"All right," Ashley said. "Brexton, take the shields offline."

"Aye ma'am," Brexton said. He hit a single button, and the energy perimeter that normally defended the Sovereign from attacks faded away, as the Sovereign continued into the nebula.

On the bridge of the Cardassian ship, the captain stared at the retreating silhouette of the Sovereign. "Fire," he said, as the ships entered weapons range.

"Captain, our sensors are malfunctioning," the weapons officer said. "I can't get a lock."

"Then fire manually!" the captain commanded. "We can't lose them now!"

Disruptors lanced out from the Cardassian ship, impacting on the ablative armor of the Sovereign. They scored the hull lightly, inflicting slight damage. The torpedoes went far wide though, and the Sovereign avoided the brunt of the blast. The Cardassian captain growled as the Sovereign disappeared from view. "Order the other ships to look for them," he said. "We're too badly damaged to go in there," he said. The lead Cardassian ship turned about.

"I've lost sensor contact with the Cardassians," Brexton said.

"Commander, we have to reduce speed," Henley said. "If we continue at this speed, I'd guess the electrically charged particles will rip through our hull and destroy all of our electronic systems pretty soon. Of course, that's only if the impulse engines don't overheat, overstress and automatically shut down before there is a catastrophic plasma blowout on decks seven through nine," he continued.

"I get the point!" Ashley exclaimed. "Reduce to one half impulse. Z- ten thousand meters," she said, remembering a classic maneuver of Admiral James T. Kirk more than a hundred years ago.

"Two dimensional thinking?" quipped Brexton.

"Hope so," Ashley said.

The Cardassian ships soared over the Sovereign in the nebula, missing them by kilometers in their search for the Federation ship. "Now," she said, "we wait."

Evan sat up, realizing he had fallen asleep in the vehicle.

"At least the stress isn't getting to me," he thought drowsily. As he came to his feet, he felt a splitting pain in his head, and collapsed to his knees, a cry of pain escaping his lips. That was when he realized that he probably hadn't fallen asleep. The Rowaawans had flooded the room with some kind of anesthetic. He gritted his teeth and stood up again. Grant teetered against the wall and then collapsed back onto his makeshift sofa and fell asleep. This time for real.

Hanson, a younger man, stumbled to his feet in a different vehicle. The pain was not as great in his head, and he managed to stand. He peered out of his compartment toward the driver's seat. All he could see was a head above the chair facing the same direction, and scenery flying by at considerable speed. He sat down on the provided bench. The journey lasted for several more uncomfortable hours.

Evan woke once more, feeling the press of gravity as the prison craft whirred to a stop. The guards lowered the forcefield, and grabbed Evan roughly, pushing him outside. Evan looked around as best he could while being shoved forward, and saw the impressive city that he had been taken to. It was as if the wilderness had suddenly come to a stop, and a huge, magnificent, exotic, city stood before him. Tall buildings were surrounded by tall, shining columns and ornately carved statues that put the ancient Roman Empire to shame. There was nothing that Grant had ever seen that held a candle to this sight. He heard the whirring of another hovercraft, and turned to see a second vehicle coming to a stop outside the city, just behind his own. The door opened, and Hanson and Daniel were pushed outside.

The guards took them firmly in hand and pushed them into the city. Many more Rowaawans were walking the streets, and the unfamiliar gray-topped Starfleet uniforms drew more than a few stares. Evan looked about the city as they marched. It seemed an unusual mix of advanced technology and unremarkable practicality. There were still markets lining the streets, and bartering seemed to be taking place. As he was walked by one stand, a Rowaawan woman cast him a glance, and it seemed to Evan that her eyes lingered on him and the officers for longer than the others. Deciding it was just his imagination, Grant kept walking. His hands were shackled, and he disregarded the brief impulse to make an escape attempt. This was not the time, or the place, for that. He hoped it wouldn't take too long for the Sovereign to locate their biosigns. Then again, he hoped his first officer wouldn't do anything foolish once she had…

The two Keldons soared over the Sovereign in the nebula, searching hurriedly for the Federation ship. Discharges of blue energy played across their hull plating. Ten thousand meters below, the Sovereign waited.

"Upper visual?" Ashley asked, glancing at Brexton.

"No, ma'am," he said, shaking his head. Ashley looked thoughtful. "Reverse course," she said suddenly. "Take us out of the nebula."

The helm ensign looked as if he was ready to question Ashley's orders, but then a smile of realization found its place on the young man's face.

"Yes, ma'am," he said. "One quarter impulse, Z + ten thousand meters, ventral thrusters engaged."

Ashley grinned. "Brexton, stand by quantum torpedoes," she said.

"Torpedoes ready, ma'am," he said.

"Engage visual," Ashley said. A blurred, static-marred image of blue gas flashed onto the viewscreen.

Suddenly, the image cleared as the ensign said, "Clearing the nebula, Commander."

"Raising shields," Brexton said. "I have one moderately damaged Keldon on sensors."

"Target their warp core and fire," Ashley said with determination.

"Gladly," Brexton said. He tapped the fire button and four quantum torpedoes screamed toward the lone Cardassian warship. They impacted with satisfying explosions, and the Cardassian ship shuddered from the impact.

"Fire," Ashley said again, and phasers lanced out at the ship, rapidly supplemented by photon torpedoes. The enemy vessel buckled again, then exploded. Brexton raised his fist in victory.

"Commander," said the officer at the science console, "They got off a short range distress signal. I don't know if the transmission will be received in the nebula or not."

Ashley grimaced. "That's unfortunate," she murmured softly.

"But the odds are slightly evened," Brexton said.

The commander nodded, satisfied with the success of her maneuver. "Resume orbit around the planet," she said.

"What about the other two ships?" Brexton asked.

"We'll find out, sooner or later," Ashley said. "In the meantime, we need to retrieve the away team."

"Aye, Commander," he said, and carried out her orders.

Evan woke inside his cell in the detention complex to the blaring wake up klaxon that greeted them every four hours or so. Apparently the Rowaawan sleep cycle was considerably different from his own. As he stood up, wearily, two Rowaawan guards appeared at the entrance to his cell.

"It's time," one of them said to him, and lowered the forcefield. Evan walked toward them without resistance, and they guided him down various dimly lit corridors until they reached a door with some sort of markings on it. One of the guards, the same one that had spoken to Evan earlier, pressed his palm against the door, and it slid into the ground. They went inside. The room was a medium sized office, lavishly decorated with sculptures and paintings. There was a large window through which sunlight poured at the opposite end, and a large, polished stone desk stood a few feet in front of it. Daniel and Hanson were already standing there, two guards behind each of them. They turned to face him as the guards brought Evan forward, visibly relived that he was all right. They had been kept separated since their capture.

Behind the desk sat a Rowaawan, a tall, powerfully built one with dark hair that wore a uniform with rank insignia of some kind. He was clearly a military man, and Grant looked him straight in the eye.

"Who are you?" he asked bluntly.

"I am Captain Evan Grant of the starship Sovereign, a ship of the United Federation of Planets," he replied without hesitation. "And who might you be, sir?" he queried, testing his bounds.

"No business of yours," the Commandant replied stiffly. "Am I to understand that you are the leader of this group?"

"You are," Evan said slowly, wondering what the point of all this might be.

"This United Federation of Planets," he said. "What is its capital world?"

"Earth," Evan said.

"And do I have any reason to believe that you are telling the truth, and are not a Cardassian spy on a mission to expose the Rowaawan People?" he said angrily, and forcefully.

"Sir, I don't mean to insult your intelligence, but, do I look like a Cardassian?" Grant asked with a hint of sarcasm.

"Appearances can be altered!" the Commandant stormed. "We will of course run a full bioscan of you when this is over."

"If you don't believe me, examine the databanks of my shuttle," Grant said with irritation. "Run all the scans you like, I'm not a Cardassian."

"Then why are you here?" the Commandant asked with a hint of warning in his voice. "Your ship has reentered orbit. A formidable vessel, armed to the teeth. Cardassians followed its arrival, at which time your ship disappeared for a time, and returned without the Cardassians, perhaps a cover for communication."

"We are here to investigate an attack on one of our starbases," Grant said, now taking the offensive. "The warp signature of the attacking ship led us here. Perhaps you would like to explain to me why that is the case."

The Commandant's eyes narrowed, but he made no other outward response to this remark. "Captain, I was completely unaware of this United Federation of Planets until your arrival several days ago. However, I may be able to shed some light on your predicament, if the medical scans reveal that you are truly not Cardassian. If," he said, making sure Grant paid plenty of attention to that part of his statement. "Take them away," he said to the guards, gesturing. "Bring them back tomorrow," he said, and his eyes lingered on the Federation captain as the newcomers were escorted back to their cells.

The Sovereign soared over Sac'rah, her sensors actively scanning the largest city on the planet's surface for any sign of the away team.

"Any sign of them?" Ashley asked Lara.

"Not yet," she said, "but we've only scanned about half of the city in detail. There is still a chance that they're there."

"What have you found?" she asked.

"They appear to be a technologically advanced civilization, and they call themselves the Rowaawans. They refer to their planet as 'Rowaawa Prime' and it seems that they never took an interest in expanding their territory, but we have no idea of their actual military capabilities. What scans we have indicate that their weapons technology is at least on par with Starfleet's, if not more powerful. Some parts of the planet are extremely developed, while others appear to be much more rustic and primitive. I've never seen anything quite like it," Lara reported.

"A conventional rescue mission may then prove impossible," Ashley said thoughtfully. "If we're going to get them out of there, we're going to have to be creative."

"What do you have in mind, Commander?" asked Brexton.

"I'm not sure yet," Ashley said. "It all depends on their sensor technology. Lara, keep running scans. Let me know when you've found Evan," she continued. "If you need me, I'll be in the armory."

She strode to a turbolift, and the doors whooshed open. "Brexton," she said, "you have the bridge."

Ashley took the turbolift to deck thirteen, the location of the armory. She came to the door, entered her access code, and walked in after the doors opened. She was startled to find an entirely different armory than the one she had last been in. Apparently, when Starfleet had repaired the Sovereign, they had added a few new touches. It was just as well, she thought, as the Sovereign's weapons stores had consisted of little more than racks of phaser rifles before.

She walked among the aisles, looking at the sensor camouflage equipment. Picking up one arm piece, she examined its specifications. After a moment or two, she replaced it. Not enough power. Things continued in a similar fashion until she came across a holographic emission system. Picking it up with interest, she checked its preset and grinned. She put the armband on arm, and activated the device. Turning to face a reflective plate of metal in the armory, she saw the reflection of a Jem'Hadar warrior, rather than herself. She raised one eyebrow in anticipation. "This might just work," she said out loud.

She took it down to the chief engineer, and ordered him to replicate a few more of them, for the rest of the team. No sooner had she done so then her comm. badge beeped. "This is Lara," came the science officer's voice. "I've located the away team," she said.

"I'm on my way," Ashley said, and left the armory. She hurried to the bridge, and stepped out of the turbolift to find Brexton staring over Lara's shoulder at a structure of some kind on the surface.

"They're being held here," Lara said, pointing to a small segment of the building. "It looks like a detention complex, with several cell blocks. As nearly as I can tell, the captain is in this one here, while Hanson and Daniel are located in this one. I can't give you any better instructions because there is a dampening field around the facility, even more powerful than that around the rest of the planet. I've talked to the engineer, and he thinks that we could beam one person down in the vicinity, if we send a whole lot of power to the targeting scanners.

"Then why not just beam them up?" Ashley asked.

"Because it's one way. We can get you down, but once you're there, we can't lock onto your life sign, unless you take a beacon of some kind."

"I'll go," Ashley said. "Tell the engineer to bring a few isolinear tags to transporter room four."

"With all due respect, ma'am," Brexton said, "Maybe I should go instead. I have more experience with this sort of thing."

"You're forgetting one thing, Lieutenant," the first officer said. "There are still two Keldons inside that nebula, and we're going to need at least one officer with tactical experience on the bridge if they show up. I'd rather it be you than me," she said.

"As you wish, Commander," Brexton replied, though he was clearly not satisfied with her reasoning.

"Take the conn," she said. "I'll be back before you know it," she continued confidently. She took the turbolift to transporter room four, then donned an armband. She tucked several deactivated isolinear tags into a holographic pocket. "When any of these beacons become activated," she told the transporter operator, "beam up the user."

The ensign nodded, and Ashley stepped onto the transporter pad. "Energize," she said, and felt the pull of the transporter dragging her off to Rowaawa.

Evan stood groggily. The Rowaawans had sedated him for the medical scans they had conducted, and he wasn't quite alert yet. He felt shackles being put on his arms once more, and almost fell as a guard pushed him from behind. He started to walk, and shook his head from side to side, attempting to clear his mind. Things began to appear more clearly, and his strength and wits were coming back to him. They pushed him down the corridors to his cell, as he contemplated what to do next. He could wait for the medical personnel to file a report on him, which could take days, of course, or he could attempt an escape. His odds of outside help, he reflected, were slim, since the Sovereign had had little success scanning the planet while he was aboard. While he knew that somehow they would find a way to counteract the planet's jamming field, he didn't know how long it would take, and he knew that every day he spent in captivity was another day that the trail of the mysterious assassins was growing colder.

On the other hand, what were his odds of making a successful escape attempt? He was in a heavily guarded detention facility that was no doubt filled with sensors, and the likely result of any escape attempt was probably receiving a beating, which would improve nothing. Unless he could get to a transmitter…

They shoved him back into his cell, reactivating the forcefield. A few moments later, the guard was changed, and a new Rowaawan stood watch over him. The lights were growing dimmer, programmed to follow a day-night cycle in the facility. He glanced around his cell for any visible sensors. There was a small nick in the wall about two feet from him. He slowly slid across to it, trying not to attract the attention of the guard at his cell entrance. There was a separate patrol that walked back and forth across the cellblock, and he heard their footsteps echo by about every five minutes or so. He waited till they had passed in one direction, then picked up a small chip of whatever material it was that they had used to floor the compound, and jammed it into the sensor. Immediately he heard a beep from the control panel outside his cell, and the guard turned to look in. A puzzled expression came over his face when he saw Evan sitting innocently enough, a drowsy expression on his face.

"Stand up," the guard said through the forcefield. Evan complied, rising to his feet sleepily. The guard lowered the forcefield, and stepped inside. As this happened, Evan readied his fists. The guard came in a little further, and then he struck. Making a double fist with his hands, he swung at the guard. Being suspicious, the Rowaawan was expecting such a move, and blocked his punch with a move that seemed to Evan strange. Quickly pulling back to strike again, he feinted to the left, and then to the right, and then struck out with a hard kick, which his opponent managed to dodge the brunt of. It glanced off the guard's shoulder, but before he could try anything else, he found himself pinned against the cell wall by a pair of very strong arms. He struggled, but found the guard had a powerful grip. He was about to bring his knee up into the guard's gut when a strange voice said, "You always had the worst timing." The guard released one of Evan's arms, and tapped its wrist. Suddenly Ashley Brightson was standing in front of him. She enjoyed the look of intense surprise on his face for a moment, then spoke again. "You picked the wrong guard to try and break out on."

"Am I glad to see your face," he said, looking at her with remorse and relief. "Even if I didn't recognize it," he said. "I hope I didn't hit too hard."

Ashley rubbed her sore shoulder. "Could've been worse," she said. "Nothing a round or two in the mess hall won't fix," she said mischievously, smiling at him. "We have a few minutes before the patrol comes back this way, so I'll tell you what the situation is. I beamed down here alone, since we can only manage solitary transport, and using this," she said, pointing to the holo-emitter on her arm, "I managed to infiltrate the facility and, well, come to your aid," continued. "We can't lock onto your life-signs, or we would have beamed you up already, so I brought these," she said, bringing forth several isolinear tags. "As soon as we activate one of them, the Rowaawans would be alerted, so we have to wait until we can get you and the rest of the team out at the same time, or we'll have trouble."

Evan nodded. "So we have to get the others."

"Yeah," Ashley said. She frowned, and cocked her head, listening intently. "The patrol is coming back," she said. "Wait here." She reactivated her holographic disguise, then ran outside the entrance and reactivated the forcefield, standing at attention while the patrol marched past. When they were gone, she deactivated the forcefield again, and returned to Evan. "I guess you had better come with me," she said. "We'll pretend like you are being transferred or something, sir," she said, adding the rank title hurriedly.

He nodded. "Are Daniel and Hanson in the same cell block?" he asked.

"Yes, but we'll have to do some walking," she said. "Come on, let's go," she said, pulling his arms behind his back and shackling them. "And remember, I don't want any trouble," she said, with a hint of enjoyment in her voice.

Evan smiled despite himself, and walked as she directed him. The Rowaawan patrol took little notice of them as they made their way to the next cellblock. They came to Daniel's cell momentarily. There was a guard standing there. "This is going to be a problem," Evan said under his breath.

"Not really," Ashley said, and pulled out a phaser. "That'll be later," she said, and fired it at the guard. He dropped to the ground stunned, but before his body had even hit the ground, an alarm sounded. "I have an idea," she said thoughtfully. "Captain, go hide in that alcove back there," she said, gesturing hurriedly down the corridor.

Evan ran and ducked inside, just as a guard came running from another cell. "Nothing to worry about here," Ashley said to the Rowaawan. I found the human with this," she said, holding her phaser uncertainly, as if she had never seen one before in her life. "After he did this," she said, gesturing at the motionless guard.

"I don't know your face," the other guard said suspiciously. "I'll take that," he continued, taking the phaser. "Sorry for the inconvenience, but I'm going to have to run an identity check." He pulled out a scanner of some kind, but before he could activate it, Ashley brought her knee up into his gut. He doubled over, and before the guard could do anything else, she made a double fist with her hands and swung them down onto his head. He dropped to the ground, quite unconscious. She picked up her phaser again, then called Evan out of the alcove. "Cover's blown," she said to him, and unshackled his arms, giving him another phaser. She deactivated the holo-emitter, and reverted once more to her normal self. He took up a position behind a bulkhead as Ashley deactivated the forcefield to Daniel's cell.

"How-?" he said, barely recognizing her in the dim light.

"No time," she said hurriedly as she heard the whine of Grant's phaser outside. She handed Daniel her third, and last, phaser, then grabbed his hand and dragged him outside. "Come on!" she yelled, impatient with his slowness.

Daniel fired his phaser and dropped another Rowaawan guard in the dimness. The flashes of light were eerie, he observed, as disruptor fire blazed past him and struck the nearby bulkhead. He fired again, covering their retreat as the impromptu commando team ran for Hanson's cell. "This is fun," he said sarcastically as more disruptor fire flashed down the corridor. He could hear the whine of Ashley and Evan's phasers ahead, and realized the guards were coming in greater numbers now. Soon, there would be too many for them to hold off.

"Although," he thought, "the people we fight always manage to have fortuitously bad aim." He fired again, dropping another guard. Still moving backward, he almost bumped into Evan, who had stopped by Hanson's cell while Brightson opened it.

They knelt, taking advantage of their stop to reduce their profile, and fired phasers both ways down the corridor, covering Ashley's work. She lowered the forcefield, and took cover inside the cell, handing Hanson an isolinear transmitter and yelling "Turn it on!"

She rolled two more across the floor to Evan and Daniel, who were on the other side of the door, and indicated to them to turn them on. They did so, and suddenly, a transporter beam energized around Hanson. He was whisked away. Ashley fired a few shots into the corridor, quickly pulling her head back as more disruptor fire came back at her. "We go one by one!" she shouted to the others. "We had to compensate for the dampening field," she explained, managing to make herself heard over the disruptor fire.

In about ten more seconds, another transporter beam appeared, this time around Daniel. With only Grant and Ashley left to hold the passage, their situation became far more tenuous. The disruptor fire becoming too intense, Evan dived for the cover of Hanson's cell, barely missed by a number of energy bolts. He fired another blast down the corridor, but missed. He felt the tug of a transporter beam, and suddenly Ashley was alone. She fired rapidly down both passages of the corridor, not aiming, just trying to keep the Rowaawans back. She managed to hold them off for a few more seconds, and then felt a transporter energize around her body. A few seconds later, she materialized in the Sovereign once more, really none the worse for her four-hour stay.

"That was interesting," Evan said, standing next to the transporter operator. "Remind me never to be captured by hostile forces ever again."

"I always do, don't I?" Ashley said, smiling almost parentally at him.

He shook his head, more in relief than from her playful needling.

"I suppose the doctor will want us all in sickbay," Daniel said, "until she can determine that none of us are carrying any deadly diseases."

"You sound impatient now," Ashley said, "but just wait until it turns out you are carrying a deadly disease. Things will seem a little different then."

"I suppose you're right," Daniel said, yawning. "I could use a little sleep anyway."

Ashley laughed, and the officers walked to sickbay together, talking all the way.

Mavon examined them all, running meticulous scans, until she was satisfied that they were all 'clean.' Hanson and Daniel left sickbay, retiring to their quarters for the night.

Evan lingered while Mavon ran a dermal regenerator over Ashley's shoulder. Almost instantly, the bruise disappeared. The commander slid off the sickbay table, and came over to Evan. "Time for those drinks I mentioned?" she asked, looking closely at him.

"More than enough," he said, looking gratefully at her. They walked to the mess hall, found a table, and spent the rest of the night talking animatedly over several glasses of Trinalian Ale.

Afterwards, they retired to their quarters and got what sleep they could, while the Sovereign orbited Rowaawa Prime, the mysterious planet that had already cost them so much time. The next day, Evan would try hailing the planet again, and would have a very different kind of talk with the Rowaawans.

Evan woke up in the morning feeling much better than when he had fallen asleep. He was not entirely cured of his headache, but it was more than bearable now. He rose from the bed and prepared for duty, changing into uniform and combing his hair. After eating breakfast alone in his room, he returned to the bridge. He was fifteen minutes early, and relieved the officer on duty, who seemed happy to be getting a break from his lackluster job of watching Rowaawa rotate slowly round, as long hours passed.

"No transmission from the planet?" he asked Lara, the science officer of beta shift.

"None," she said. "Silent as a tomb."

It suddenly occurred to Evan how glad he was that they had used stun setting on the planet. The Rowaawans hadn't lost anybody during the daring escape of the Federation personnel. Perhaps they still had a chance to deal with the inhabitants of Sac'rah/Rowaawa.

"Would you like me to hail the planet, sir?" asked Ensign William Touster from the helm.

"No," Evan said, "I'll wait until the rest of the shift gets here."

"Aye, sir," the ensign said.

Daniel was next to arrive on the bridge, the turbolift doors sliding open to admit him. He took his post at the science console, and Lara left the bridge.

The commander monitored Rowaawa, scanning for any sign of unusual activity on the planet's surface. There was nothing, aside from a few strange energy readings that were beginning to increase in intensity. For all Daniel knew, it was increased power usage on the daylight side of the planet.

Hanson took his place at the helm now, but had little to do but watch the stars go by. He watched the viewscreen intently. "What's that?" He asked, pointing to a field of small points of light that now appeared over the planet's surface.

"I don't know," Daniel said. "My readings are still being distorted," he complained.

"Whatever they are, they're getting bigger," Evan said, frowning and watching them approach. Now more of them were visible, and the first ones to appear were resolving into distinguishable objects.

"I have a fix on the lead ones now, sir!" Daniel said excitedly. "It's a blanket volley of torpedoes!"

"Evasive maneuvers!" Evan ordered in alarm, just as Ashley stepped out of the turbolift. She took in the situation with a glance, and took her post.

"Red alert!" she said, raising the Sovereign's shields.

"Do we have warp drive?" Evan asked hurriedly.

"Not at this location," Daniel said. "There is too much ion buildup around the hull, we'd fry the ship if we went to warp."

"How many torpedoes?" Grant asked.

"I'm reading three hundred already, with more on the way," Daniel said, his eyes wide with concern.

Evan turned to Hanson. "Can you get us out of their way, Ensign?" he asked.

"I can dodge some of them, but I can't get us fully clear for another five minutes," he said.

"I'm reading over one thousand warheads incoming now," Daniel said. "The first ones will impact in thirty seconds."

"Do your best," Grant said to Hanson. "Suggestions, everyone," he said, turning to face his officers, all of whom were now on the bridge.

"We could try and shoot them down with antimatter spreads…." Brexton suggested hesitantly.

"We couldn't stop enough," Daniel said. "Besides, there's no time to reconfigure the phasers."

"We could use the deflector dish to set up a physical barrier," Ashley said. "It would buy us some time, but I'll need to go down to deflector control."

Evan considered the problem very quickly, then nodded his approval.

The Sovereign was speeding away from the torpedoes at full thrusters now, buying herself as much time as she could.

"Impact in two minutes," Daniel said. "I'm reading almost eight thousand warheads now. They are spread over a large area, there is no way we can escape without warp drive."

Ashley jogged down the sections of deck eleven, heading for deflector control. She reached the doors with one minute and thirty seconds remaining until impact. They slid open before her, to reveal a more dimly lit room that was quite large, with consoles and catwalks scattered everywhere. She jogged to a ladder and jumped down, landing flexibly on her feet, and saving a few seconds. The console she needed was still almost thirty meters away. She ran full out now, with one minute remaining. Suddenly, she felt a great weight slam into her back, and fell over with a cry, the wind knocked out of her. Scrambling to face the direction she had come from, she saw nothing. Then, something punched her full in the face. There was incredible force behind the blow, and it was all Ashley could manage to stay conscious.

She rolled, and got to her feet, swinging her arm in an effort to find her attacker. She hit something about a foot in front of her, and kicked out at it. She hit something, and felt no more attacks for a few seconds. Forty-five seconds remained. The commander ran as far toward the console as she could until she was tackled from behind. She slid out of her attacker's grasp, and kicked again, this time hitting him in the head. Suddenly Ashley felt herself hoisted in the air, and felt her back hit a rail that was all that stood between her and a forty-foot drop. She struggled, using every ounce of her strength to try to break the grasp of her attacker, but without success.

It was then that her luck changed. As the assassin prepared to throw her over the rail, something he wore caught on the metal, and Ashley heard a tearing sound. Her assailant's grip suddenly weakened as he was distracted, and she broke free. Ducking low, she dodged another swing at her, then looked around. She saw a patch of something, floating in midair, and grabbed at it. Pulling hard, she tore off a large piece of the cloaking suit worn by her attacker. Now she could see a part of him clearly enough to fight him effectively.

Dodging another blow, she ran toward an engineering toolkit that was leaning against one of the rails. Picking up a long metal rod with a very sharp calibrating apparatus at the far end, she brandished it like a spear. Thirty seconds remained. She stabbed out with the weapon, but her opponent nimbly sidestepped, grabbing the rod with both hands as he did so. With a wrench of superhuman strength, he wrested it from her. In one quick move, he stabbed her through the gut.

Ashley cried out, falling to her knees as the sharp object penetrated her body. She stared dazedly ahead, unable to focus her eyes on any single object, and waited. The being in front of her deactivated what was left of his cloaking suit, and now Ashley could see that he was a tall alien, almost seven feet, she guessed. He towered over the rail in front of her. That gave her an idea. The commander stared up at him, an expression of great pain on her face. She could feel warm blood pouring over her wound, and even as she weakened, Ashley placed both hands on the makeshift spear through her body. Before the alien could react, she pulled it out, in one desperate burst of strength. The blunt end of the calibrator hit the alien in the head with great speed, and he stumbled backward into the rail. Groping desperately around him for a handhold, he slipped, and leaning his full weight against the rail, he fell over it, backward. Ashley heard a brief cry, then a disturbing sizzle as flesh met an active plasma relay.

Fifteen seconds remained now, and Ashley, with her last reserves of strength, stumbled to the deflector control console. As the last few seconds ticked away, Ashley manipulated the deflector, causing it to form a protective shield around the Sovereign, one with enough physical strength that the missiles would detonate on it, rather than on the hull of the ship. Activating the shield with only three seconds remaining, Ashley slumped down, her back against the console, and managed to tap her comm. badge once before she passed out.

Evan, standing on the bridge, watched with satisfaction as the warheads slammed into an invisible wall kilometers from the Sovereign. He tapped his comm. badge.

"Good work, Number One," he spoke clearly. There was no response from the other end. Frowning, he turned to Daniel.

He was already examining the internal sensors of the deflector control room. "Ashley's comm. badge is in distress mode," he said in a puzzled voice. "Her life sign is very faint!"

"Site to site transport," Evan said. "Get her to sickbay."

"We don't have enough power, sir," Brexton said. "All our output is going to keep up that shield."

With concern on his face, Evan turned to face his tactical officers. "You have the bridge," he said. "Have a medical team meet me in deflector control." So saying, the captain ran to the turbolift, leaving Brexton to face the immense shower of impotent missiles that the Sovereign was weathering from the strange planet below.

Evan ran down deck eleven at full tilt, stopping only as he crashed into an ensign carrying some tools to engineering. He came to deflector control quickly, and ran inside. At first he saw nothing, and continued on his way to the console. Sliding down a ladder, he kept running, and stopped suddenly, as he caught sight of a bloody plasma conduit calibrator lying on the metal mesh that served for a floor on the catwalk. There was more blood nearby, and with a sinking feeling, he followed the trail with his eyes to the deflector control console, next to which lay Ashley's body.

His breath caught in his throat, and he ran with amazing speed to her side, cradling her head in his arms. He saw a large wound through her stomach, and deduced that part of what had taken place. He heard the doors to the room slide open as the medical team hurried in.

"Over here," he yelled to them, and they hurried over. There was blood on Ashley's lip, and she stirred suddenly, her eyes opening. A sudden look of alarm crossed her face, and then she saw Evan's face over her head. Her body jerked tense then, and the only thing that saved her from great injury at that moment was Grant's voice, telling her not to move, and that she would be fine. She raised one arm, and pointed at the railing a few sections over. "There," she said weakly, as the medical aides tended to her.

Evan ran to the rail, and looked down. Below was the large corpse of a humanoid alien. As he watched it, it seemed to smolder, and he realized that the creature had fallen onto an exposed plasma conduit, and even now was being subjected to a massive energy shock. He gestured to one of the medical people, and together they clambered down various ladders to reach the body. Grant had brought the calibrator down with him, and he levered the body onto the catwalk, carefully avoiding conduits as he did so. As the alien's head became visible, the aide standing next to Grant gasped.

"This is the one we had in the brig," he said, startled.

"What?" Grant asked, confused.

"The alien Daniel captured," the aide said. "We thought he blew up with the drone when Ashley destroyed it."

"The drone must have beamed him out before it exploded," Grant realized. "He's been lurking here ever since. _DAMN_! I should have seen this one coming," he stormed in disgust. "You know what to do," he told the aide, who started examining the body.

Grant climbed back up to Ashley, whom the aides had stabilized as best they could without moving her.

"What's her condition?" he asked with fearful anticipation.

One of the aides shook his head discouragingly. "She's lost almost two liters of blood, and gone into shock. She's in critical need of a transfusion, and we have to get her to sickbay somehow!"

While his mind started working on a way to safely move her, Evan felt the Sovereign lurch under his feet, and realized that his problem had been solved for him. The ship had gone to warp. "Transporters should be operational now," he said. "Beam her up, and keep me posted. I'll most likely be on the bridge, or somewhere close."

"Aye, sir," the lead aide said, already ordering a transport. Evan hoped desperately that it wasn't too late, climbing up a ladder as he listened to the steady drip, drip, drip of his friend's blood from the catwalk to the floor below. As the doors to deflector control opened before him, he heard the whine of a transporter. He had done all he could here.

Evan returned to the bridge, his face giving no clue to the other officers what had happened in deflector control. They exchanged glances, then turned back to their duties.

"Turn the ship around," Evan said, watching the viewscreen.

"Sir?" Hanson asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"You heard me," Evan said. "We're going back."

"Aye, sir," Hanson said, and turned back to his console.

The Sovereign dropped out of warp, came about, and resumed warp in the opposite direction.

"ETA one minute," Hanson said. "What are you going to do, Captain?"

"You remember what the commandant said about being able to shed some light on our situation?" Evan asked.

"Yes, sir," Hanson said.

"I intend to find out what he meant by that," the captain finished.

"And what if they don't want to tell you?" Hanson asked. "They didn't exactly like us, sir," he stated.

"The feeling's mutual, but I think if I threaten to tell the entire quadrant about their existence, they might think twice before withholding the information," Evan said. "If we can stay out of their weapons range for a while, I'd say we have a pretty good bargaining position."

Hanson's console beeped, and he turned to examine it.

"We have dropped out of warp, several million kilometers from the planet, sir," he said.

"All stop," Grant said, rising from his chair. "Open a channel to the planet."

"Channel open, sir."

"To the government of the planet Rowaawa, this is Captain Evan Grant of the Federation starship Sovereign. Please respond," Evan said.

He waited for a moment, hoping for a response.

Hanson shook his head. "Nothing, sir."

Evan shrugged.

"If you don't respond," Evan continued on the channel, "I might be forced to file a report about this incident." Even as he spoke, the captain doubted if he would have any choice but to file a report on the incident, regardless of the Rowaawans' response, but, as he reflected, not knowing that wouldn't do them any harm. Besides, whether the Federation knew or not was of little consequence to them. It was the other technology hungry powers of the Alpha Quadrant that the Rowaawans would have to be concerned with anyway. But then, he supposed, they didn't know that either.

After a small wait, a response came over the channel.

"This is the prime minister of the planet Rowaawa," a low, guttural voice said. "What is it that you want from us, Captain?"

"About a week ago, one of our starbases was attacked and severely damaged by one of our vessels, one that was captured by an unknown alien race and reprogrammed to act against us. We investigated the last known position of that vessel, and found an unknown warp signature that led us to this very planet. We were hoping you could explain this," the captain said.

There was another pause, while the Rowaawan on the other end assimilated this information.

"I can assure you, Captain," the prime minister said, "It was not our people that launched that attack on your starbase. A spacecraft has not been launched from Rowaawa for more than one hundred-fifty years."

As he spoke, Evan glanced at Daniel, who gestured noncommittally, indicating that what the prime minister had said might, or might not, be true.

"If it will make you go away peacefully, Captain," the prime minister continued, "we would be willing to analyze the energy signature you speak of. If we have a match, we will share the information with you."

Evan made the gesture to mute the channel, and looked around his bridge. "Thoughts, everyone?" he asked.

"Couldn't hurt," Daniel said.

"I agree," Brexton said. "Whether or not we can trust them, it certainly can't do any harm, and it's the only lead we've got."

"Very well," Grant said, and gestured to Hanson to reopen the channel.

"It's a deal," Evan said. "On one condition. That, if you do give us the information, it is valid. If you mislead us, you will most certainly be seeing our ship in your system again."

"Very well," said the prime minister.

"Transmitting the signature data now," Evan said, and nodded to his science officer.

Daniel tapped a few controls, and then nodded back to the captain, indicating that the transmission had been sent.

Evan returned to his chair, sighing as he sat down. "If they decide to tell us they just don't have anything, we can't do anything about it," he said. "They have us at a disadvantage."

"But, sir, they don't really have any reason to lie," Brexton said. "How could it affect them?"

"Perhaps they are at the war with the responsible group," Daniel said. "The Rowaawans could anger them by having put us back on their trail."

"In any case," Evan said, "We'll just have to hope for the best. By the way, if any of you gentlemen are planning to go into the command field some day, that's a pretty unorthodox tactic. Don't use it often."

Brexton chuckled.

"We're receiving a transmission from the planet," Hanson said. "Data only. I'm feeding it to Daniel's console," he continued.

"Hope it's hungry," Brexton quipped. Hanson shot a strange glance at the tactical officer, and Evan shook his head, smiling involuntarily. His officers were an interesting bunch, that much was certain.

After a moment, Daniel glanced up from his console. "Looks like we lucked out," he said. "They found a match, or at least they claim to. They sent us some information about the species as well, along with an algorithm for tracing the warp signatures to their actual destination."

Evan raised his eyebrows. "I guess they _really_ want us gone," he said. "Well?" he asked.

"According to their information, the warp signature matches that of an Ardenian battleship. The Ardenians are a humanoid species native to a system a few light years from here, again in pseudo-Cardassian space.

"Psuedo-Cardassian space?" Brexton asked.

"Space that they claimed as their own, but never settled or developed."

"Strange that so many empires developed in the shadow of the Cardassians," Evan mentioned.

"Indeed," Daniel said. "In any case, the only other information here is that they possess, quote, 'extremely advanced technology' and are 'quite dangerous'," Daniel said. "Oh, and they sent us some anatomical data as well."

"That sounds about right," Brexton said.

"Set a course for the indicated star system," Evan said. "Low warp, and comm. silence. The second you see another spacecraft, drop out of warp and let me know," he finished, standing up.

"And where will you be, sir?" asked Hanson.

"In sickbay," Evan said, "or in my quarters. Ashley's hurt badly," he told them, and exited the bridge.

The Sovereign reduced its power signature, silenced all communications, and then slid into a new course, jumping to warp three. If no one was looking for them, it was unlikely that she would be detected. While the crew did not know it at the time, this was by far the wisest course of action they could have chosen.

Ashley lay on a sickbay table, a medical device extended over her wound. She was essentially asleep, dreaming very vividly. She was not in a coma, but she wasn't merely unconscious either, her mind in a sort of shock, and her body systems operating at very reduced capacities while they struggled to cope with her injury. The doctor had done what she could, replacing the commander's lost blood, staunching the blood flow, and repairing the critical damage to her stomach and digestive system. The wound was far too substantial, however, for her to simply regenerate the lost tissue. Ashley's body had to do the rest of the work, however difficult that might be.

She dreamed about many things while she lay there, mostly experiences of her past, her academy days, her first assignment as a Starfleet officer, and even her childhood. If she'd been in any condition to be thinking, she would have wondered if her life was passing before her eyes prior to her death. As it was, she was certainly not in any condition to be thinking. Her eyes moved rapidly under the lids, assuring the doctor that she was getting REM sleep, not a mere nap.

It was in this condition that Evan found her when he arrived in sickbay. Mavon informed him of what had been done, and her condition. When asked what Ashley's odds for survival were, she could only say "Hit or miss."

However, Ashley was not the primary reason Evan had come to sickbay. There was little he could do for her, and he was painfully aware of it. As Mavon noticed, however, there was a datapad in his hand, and a purpose in his eyes.

Their focus soon slid across the room to the sickbay table opposite Ashley's. There lay the body of her attacker.

Evan walked over to the corpse, and slid the datapad into a data interface socket nearby. Inside were the anatomical scans of the Ardenian species that the Rowaawans had transmitted to the Sovereign. Mavon and the captain began to compare and analyze them.

"There isn't anything I can tell you with certainty about his genetic structure," Mavon said, gesturing at the Ardenian. "His cells were badly damaged from the shock he was subjected to. The plasma shock he received made it practically impossible to extract intact DNA without destroying my instruments. What I have examined is his basic anatomy, from a safe distance. And it matches these scans you have."

A screen on the wall showed the scans that the doctor had conducted, and next to it, the scans from the Rowaawans. They were very similar indeed. Mavon conducted a line item comparison.

"Two hearts here," she said, glanced at the other scan, then said, "Two hearts there as well. Three brain cortexes, and, three brain cortexes. Same approximate height and weight, and in addition, their physiologies match quite closely. No differences that would suggest that the two specimens are from different species. Again, I can't be absolutely positive without a genetic check, but the odds of two species having a anatomic layout this identical are miniscule."

Evan was examining other facets of the creature's anatomy, besides the obvious ones. He had had some medical training in the past, and was reasonably competent when it came to this sort of thing.

"This species has been around for a while," Grant noted. "There are a lot of very sophisticated adaptations here, like these muscles at the ankle. Those are shock absorbers, no questions asked. Some of these immune defenses are highly evolved as well."

Mavon watched his analysis, and agreed. "If I had to guess, I'd say this species has existed for at least ten million years, or more. That suggests that the Ardenian body plan is pretty effective."

Evan nodded. "I'm surprised though, that they don't resemble the drones we found on board the Prometheus. They say that the maker creates his product in his own image, but these people don't seem to fall in with that philosophy."

"There are exceptions to every rule," Mavon said thoughtfully.

"True enough," Evan said.

A beep from Ashley's monitor grabbed the two officers' attention immediately. They ran over to her console with alarm, but Mavon's expression relaxed when she glanced at the monitor.

"Her vital signs are normalizing," she said. "Her heart rate has decreased eight beats per minute in the last ten minutes, down to one-hundred. Cell activity inside her body has also stepped up greatly. It looks as if she might be on the mend," Mavon finished.

"I certainly hope so," Evan said. "I know how she feels," he said, recalling his own experience on that same sickbay table not long ago.

"In a way," Mavon said, "your injuries were easier to heal. A lot of your organs were so far gone they just had to be replaced, and we could do that, along with advanced tissue replacement techniques that we can't use on wounds of her caliber," she noted, nodding her head toward Ashley's abdomen. "She'll have scar tissue there for the rest of her life," Mavon continued. It won't be very much though, or visible on the outside, since the skin size of the wound is so small. That's the one good thing about an injury caused by a spear; while it does a great deal of internal damage, it can't, say, dismember someone, or horribly cripple them, provided they survive the initial wound. I think your first officer has not seen her last days on the bridge," Mavon finished optimistically.

"I hope you're right," Evan said. "I need another command officer I can trust, and soon if possible. I have a feeling our mission is about to get very, very difficult indeed. Thank you, doctor," he said, and left sickbay.

Not more than a few seconds afterward, he returned. "I'm going to have Brexton post two guards outside," Grant said. "I don't want any more surprises. If something happens, feel free to call them in immediately." Mavon nodded, sobered by the captain's concern for the safety of his officers, now that so many had nearly been killed.

Then Evan left sickbay again, this time heading to deflector control. He wanted to look over the scene one more time before the janitorial team went over it. One question still remained in his mind. How had the Ardenian escaped detection? He reached deflector control, and walked slowly to the catwalk where the struggle had transpired. He looked at the catwalk carefully, his eyes sweeping up and down from the red stains of blood on the console, and the floor next to the ladder he had just climbed down. At first he noticed nothing unusual, but when he checked the catwalk for the second time, he noticed something strange. There seemed to be a fairly large chip out it. It was as if someone had simply removed a slice of the catwalk right next to the rail. He walked to it, and knelt down on the ground.

"It was as it first appeared," he thought. The deck was simply missing. He reached his hand down to feel the edge, and was shocked to find that his hand hit something. He pulled his hand back quickly, frowned, and looked again. Then a suspicion hit him. The clothes on the alien's body in sickbay had been burnt and blackened, but he remembered noticing a tear on one of the sleeves.

Evan reached his hand down again, and ran his hand over the invisible object. It moved. He slid one edge of the object over the catwalk and grabbed it from the hanging end. He could now see that it was a fabric of some kind. It appeared exactly like a bit of plasma conduit from below the catwalk. As he held it in his hand, it slowly began to change color, until it matched that of his skin exactly. Evan, still holding it in his hand, walked to a nearby equipment console, and extracted a tricorder. He ran it over the fabric, and discovered that there was an unusually high concentration of tachyon particles on it.

Just like a cloaking device, he realized. This must be a piece of some sort of cloaking suit, like the one that the assassin had used to approach Hanson's house back on Earth. But it wasn't the same one, he knew. They had removed that suit from the Alien after they'd beamed him to the brig. Perhaps, Grant theorized, when the rescue drone transported him out, it sent another cloaking suit with him. Transporter and replicator technologies were very similar, and it was conceivable that the drone could perform both functions.

This was very advanced technology indeed, technology that Starfleet could not match. This fact weighed on him as he left deflector control.

Ashley blinked her eyes groggily and tried to sit up. This act was not wise, as her abdomen quickly reminded her. She gave a cry of pain and fell back onto the bed. Mavon, in a side room reading some medical reports, heard her, and hurried over.

"You've been out for twelve hours now," she said. "We were very worried about you."

"The ship?" Ashley managed to ask, hoarsely.

"Fine, thanks to you," Mavon said. "If you'd taken a few seconds longer it would have been a different story though."

Ashley winced, closing her eyes momentarily to clear her mind of pain. "Did the captain get anything out of the Rowaawans?" she asked.

"Yes, we're on route to another star system as I speak," the doctor said. "You probably shouldn't talk much, Commander," she continued. "Take all the rest you can get."

Ashley, too weak to talk, let her head fall back against the pillow of the sickbay bed, and before she even knew what was happening, she fell asleep.

"So here it is," Grant said. "We tracked our target first, incorrectly, to Rowaawa, and then managed, after an extensive delay, to get a follow up from them. We are on route to the star system that they indicated, and we hope to get some answers there. Thoughts, everyone?" he said, looking at his senior staff from the head of the conference table he was sitting at.

"A question," Daniel said hesitantly.

"Let's hear it," Grant said.

"Why would the Rowaawans use a blanket torpedo spread to try and drive us off, or destroy us?" he asked. "Surely a smaller scale assault would have been more practical, and efficient."

Evan raised his eyebrows, looking at Brexton for the reply.

"My theory is that those defenses were designed for use against large fleets, rather than single ships. If that spread had hit a task force the destruction would have been catastrophic. Perhaps they didn't have anything else to throw at us," the tactical officer proposed.

"That seems logical," Vu'ton, the chief engineer said. "The Rowaawans have hidden their planet with great care, suggesting that they hide from something of great power, perhaps something that large scale defenses would be better suited to engaging."

Evan nodded thoughtfully. "I wonder if these Ardenians that we are chasing have anything to do with it. The mention of what happened to our starbase seemed to give pause to both the prime minister of Rowaawa and the commandant I spoke to. As if there was a great fear associated with what I said."

"And the Rowaawans don't seem to be terribly up on recent events," Hanson said. "No ships launched from the planet for a hundred and fifty years? It surprised me that they knew about other inhabited worlds, let alone the obscure one that we happen to be heading for. I have a feeling that the Ardenians and the Rowaawans go back a long time."

"I'm not sure I believe the prime minister's story about not launching for a hundred and fifty years," Grant said. "What about those two ships we encountered in orbit?"

"They bore a distinct similarity to what I've seen of Rowaawan design," Daniel said. "And there were plenty of life signs onboard."

"One thing is certain," Hanson said. "Regardless of their involvement in current Alpha Quadrant politics, the Rowaawans have great power. How and why they achieved this while maintaining such utter secrecy is a question for another debate. Hopefully, they helped us by providing accurate information on the Ardenians. We'll soon know, I'm sure, but I believe that perhaps the Ardenians are indeed the real culprits behind the Starbase One attack," he surmised.

"How much longer until we reach their star system?" Evan asked.

"Approximately five hours, sir," Hanson said.

Evan sighed, wishing that the Sovereign's speed was not limited by the need for secrecy. If only they could move at maximum warp, he would have long since arrived at Ardenia.

His comm. badge chirped. "Captain to the bridge," Lara's voice came. "Unidentified vessel on sensors," she continued.

"I'm on my way," Evan replied. "Dismissed," he said to his officers. They left the conference room and returned to the bridge. He paused on his way to the chair, staring at the strange craft on the viewscreen.

"The vessel de-cloaked in front of us a few seconds ago, sir," Lara reported. "We can get no conclusive scans of the ship, but there is an energy field of considerable power surrounding it."

"Deflector screens?" Brexton asked.

"Possibly," Lara replied. "Then again, maybe not."

Grant considered this for a moment, and decided on his course next course of action.

"Go to yellow alert," he ordered. "Shields up, but don't power weapons. Are there life signs on board the vessel?"

"Can't tell, sir," Daniel reported from the science console, which he was now manning. "No communications that we can detect, either," he continued.

"Open a channel to the other ship," Grant said. "We might get lucky," he hoped out loud.

"Channel open," Hanson said.

"Unidentified vessel, this is Captain Evan Grant of the starship Sovereign. Please identify yourself," he requested. There was no response from the other ship. It floated motionless in space, directly in front of the Sovereign. The craft was an unusual design, not modular like most ships that the captain had seen before. It was almost as if all the components of a vessel had been rolled into one giant module, rather than being strapped onto a flying house, like Federation starships.

Suddenly, a vast, white beam of energy shot out from the enemy craft. It seemed to hit the Sovereign instantly, but the ship did not rock from the impact. The light on the viewscreen was so bright that Evan had to cover his eyes. He turned away from the viewscreen.

"Report!" he yelled to Daniel.

"We're being scanned, Captain!" he yelled in response, over the sudden loud buzzing that pulsed through the bridge. "Hostile intent is not evident," he finished.

Then, as suddenly as it had begun, the light and the noise stopped. The beam no longer appeared on the viewscreen, and the ship still remained motionless.

Evan watched the ship for its next move. As he observed it, blue flashes of energy began to play over its hull, and a visual distortion akin to a cloaking device began to confuse the image even farther. The ship appeared to be fading away, but there was nothing on Daniel's console to indicate what was occurring.

Soon, the ship completely disappeared once more. Almost exactly as soon as it was no longer visible, Daniel reported. "I don't read a thing anymore, sir." Suddenly Evan felt a tug at the back of his mind, and jerked forward in his chair.

"One thing is certain," Hanson said. "Regardless of their involvement in current Alpha Quadrant politics, the Rowaawans have great power. How and why they achieved this while maintaining such utter secrecy is a question for another debate. Hopefully, they helped us by providing accurate information on the Ardenians. We'll soon know, I'm sure, but I believe that perhaps the Ardenians are indeed the real culprits behind the Starbase one attack," he surmised.

"How much longer until we reach their star system?" Evan asked.

"Approximately five hours, sir," Hanson said.

Evan sighed, wishing that the Sovereign's speed were not limited by the need for secrecy. If only they could move at maximum warp, he would have long since arrived at Ardenia.

His comm. badge chirped. "Captain to the bridge," Lara's voice came. "Unidentified vessel on sensors," she continued.

"I'm on my way," Evan replied. "Dismissed," he said to his officers. They left the conference room and returned to the bridge. He paused on his way to the chair, staring at the strange craft on the viewscreen. Grant felt a distinct sensation of déjà-vu, as if this had just happened before.

"Captain, the vessel is approaching at attack speed!" Brexton said with alarm.

"I'm reading strange energy buildups aboard that vessel," Daniel said.

"Red alert! Shields up!" Grant ordered. "All hands to battle stations. Evasive port side," he said.

"Evasive port, aye, sir," Hanson said, hastily carrying out Evan's orders.

Suddenly, two twin beams of blue energy shot out from the unique craft in front of them. One flew wide, missing the Sovereign by a few meters. The other impacted directly on her forward shield.

The bridge seemed to explode then, as literally every single console overloaded, sending a shower of sparks and foul smelling plasma exhaust across the bridge. The ship rocked hard, throwing Evan against the deck, and most of his crew as well.

Scrambling to his chair, Evan yelled "Report!" to Brexton, who had already struggled to his feet.

"Forward shields are…" and Brexton paused, frowning at his console, "gone, sir. Somehow they tuned their weapons to our shield frequency! I don't know how; there wasn't anywhere near enough time to scan us." he finished, looking with alarm at the captain. He frowned, also feeling that this situation was somewhat familiar. Grant wasted no time with his reaction.

"Quantum torpedoes. Full spread, full charge. Fire."

"Torpedoes away, sir," Brexton said, as the eerily beautiful blue projectiles lanced out at the enemy ship. The first one impacted on its hull, seeming to pass through an energy barrier around the outside of the craft. It exploded against the armor, seeming to do little. The second torpedo passed through the energy barrier as well, then impacted on the ship. With a brilliant flash of orange fire, the ship exploded.

"What the hell?" Grant asked in shock, holding his arm to his eyes to shield them from the bright explosion on the screen.

"I don't understand sir," Brexton said, looking at his instruments. "Those torpedoes did not have enough energy to destroy a ship of that mass," he stated.

As Evan watched the viewscreen, it became clear that more than just debris remained behind. A bright, flashing, green orb of energy remained, where the craft had been.

"Scan," Grant ordered immediately. "What is that?"

"It's a energy signature of a type I've never seen before," Daniel said. "I'm reading a great concentration of chronometric particles emanating from the debris."

"You know," Grant said. "I almost feel like I've seen that ship before."

Hanson turned in his chair. "Sir, I do too," he said. "It's like I've seen that design before…" he paused, and looked back that screen. "Or after…" his voice trailed off.

"Time travel?" Brexton asked.

Grant simply stood, awed by the complexity of the situation he found himself in. Suddenly he felt very small, very weak. "Is there any organic matter amongst the debris?" he asked.

"Yes, sir," Daniel said. "I'm reading a few traces."

"Beam up a sample, will you?" Grant said. "Let's find out if our attackers here are any relation to the Ardenians."

"Aye, sir," Daniel said, tapping his controls. "Beaming a piece of debris to cargo bay three."

Grant turned from the viewscreen. "Hanson," he said. "Set a course for the Federation border. It's time we informed Starfleet of what's happened."

"Aye, sir," Hanson said. "Course laid in."

"Warp seven," Grant said. "Go."

The ship jumped to warp, as Evan said to Daniel, "Let's go have a look."

Daniel rose from his chair and entered the turbolift alongside the captain. They took the lift to deck seven, and disembarked there.

They stepped through the doors to the cargo bay to face a large, charred piece of metal from the destroyed ship.

Daniel went over to an equipment locker and removed two tricorders. He tossed one to Evan, who deftly caught it.

They both opened their tricorders and stepped up to the debris. They began to run a location scan over the piece, attempting to locate the organic matter that the Sovereign had detected. A proximity scan worked in a somewhat slow fashion. The tricorder would beep faster and faster as it was moved closer and closer to the reading it was set to look for.

Evan and Daniel moved around it systematically, moving their tricorders up and down. As Evan walked across to the opposite side, Daniel said "Got it."

Grant hurried back over, and Daniel pointed to a charred green residue on one part of the debris. Evan quickly interfaced with the ship's computer and downloaded the Ardenian DNA profile the Rowaawans had sent. Then he scanned the residue. "A bit fragmented," he commented, "but it's a match. Same species."

Daniel nodded glumly. "Do you think we're in over our heads?"

"I don't know…" Grant sighed. "I'm more interested in knowing why our quantum torpedoes were so effective. That hit wouldn't have destroyed a Federation ship, so why would it destroy them?"

"Brexton may have something to say about that later," Daniel said. "He was already starting to run an analysis when I left."

"I can only hope he finds something," Grant said. "In the academy, I was on the fencing team for a while," he reminisced. "There was one cadet there who was unbelievably good. This guy was a world-class athlete. The rest of the fencers had a saying about him. They said that fencing with him was like trying to fight time traveling aliens. Not possible."

Daniel chuckled at that. "Seems the Academy has a lesson for everything," he reflected. "Do you know what became of the guy?" he asked.

"Yeah," Grant said succinctly. "I beat him." With that, Grant strode from the cargo bay.

He took the turbolift to sickbay next. He wanted to check on Ashley.

He went into the room, nodding politely to Mavon as he walked toward Ashley's sickbed. She intercepted him before he got too close. "How is she?" Evan asked.

"Better," Mavon said. "But sleeping, as she should be," the doctor said protectively.

Evan smiled. "I'm not going to wake her up," he said confidentially.

Mavon eyed him, then slid out of his way. Evan stepped up to the table and looked at his first officer. She was breathing, slowly and deeply, her head turned to one side.

A scanning instrument was extended over her wound, so he was unable to see it, but he could hear the soft beeping of her life signs, and glanced at the display. Her heart rate was now ninety beats per minute, acceptable given her current condition.

She stirred in her sleep, and a strand or two of her blond hair fell across her face. He reached down and stroked it away, careful not to wake her. It was at this moment that he began to realize that he loved her.

They had always had a close working relationship, ever since she had become his executive officer during the Sovereign's previous mission, but he had always distanced himself slightly, feeling that a romantic relationship would be inappropriate for someone in his position.

As he watched her, though, he thought that perhaps denying his own emotions needlessly would be far more foolish. He shook his head, refocusing himself on the mission. Whatever the case might be, this was hardly the time to be worrying about such things, with their very survival an in jeopardy and the first officer in poor condition on an operating table.

He left sickbay, walking out with slightly more on his mind than when he had come in. As he did so, he heard the voice of Admiral Hayes in his head once more. "Just don't forget," he said, "she's not the only young one on your ship."

A strange day it had been, and he intended to get some rest before it got any stranger. He returned to his quarters for a nap, sliding into bed in his uniform. He set an alarm next to him to wake him in two hours, and then fell asleep.

Daniel returned to the bridge, slightly shocked by the sheer peril of the Sovereign's situation. Depending on how adept the Ardenians were at time travel, anything was possible. They could appear anywhere, at any time, in any state of battle readiness, and hit the Sovereign when her defenses were down. The sheer tactical possibilities of such a technology gave him a headache to think about.

The only thought that gave him any relief was that Starfleet might be able to provide some support for the Sovereign, or at least offer some suggestions. The crew, however, had reached their wits end, and it would be good to have relief from the constant tension of this mission. Not, of course, that they would be any safer when they returned to Federation space.

Daniel had the distinct feeling that the Sovereign was being hunted. It was not a pleasant feeling at all. Suddenly his tensions eased as he thought of the captain. If there were anyone in Starfleet who could pull this job off, it would be Grant, or maybe Captain Picard. Daniel had never met the man in person, but, he supposed, you don't get that kind of reputation without being incredibly good.

A beep from Hanson's console startled him back to reality. "We are approaching Federation space," the ensign said, as Grant walked in from the turbolift. Daniel abdicated the captain's chair as the strong, commanding figure of Evan Grant took the seat once more.

"Daniel, compile a thorough report on what we've encountered so far. Sensor readings, Rowaawan data, everything. Request reinforcements. Oh, and make sure the Rowaawan data gets classified. We told them we weren't going to give them away, and I don't intend to. Unless, of course, they lied to us," Grant said, "and it certainly doesn't look like they did."

"Extremely dangerous," Brexton said. "They possess highly advanced technology."

Grant smirked. "And we just found out how advanced it really is."

"Captain, the data stream is ready," Daniel reported.

"Begin transmission," Evan replied. "I wish I could be there to see the look on Admiral Hayes' face when he sees this."

Daniel tapped his controls, and a subspace transmission was sent out from the Sovereign, relayed through a few high security subspace communication grids, and delivered to Starfleet Command.

Evan left the bridge, and paced about the ship, now perpetually set to red alert. He wandered the corridors, talking to security personnel, who were marching about with phaser rifles, reassuring the nervous members of his crew. He was providing them with assurances that he didn't even believe himself. It was going to be a neat trick to stay alive, but in a vague way he perceived there might not be as much danger as he had initially feared. After all, he was still alive, wasn't he? If these aliens had infinite time-traveling capabilities, surely they would already have traveled far into his past and annihilated him already.

Suddenly, his comm. badge chirped.

"Captain Grant to the bridge," came Daniel's voice. "We have company."

Evan's face sagged momentarily. He paused, then wearily replied, "I'm on my way," and headed back to the bridge. He arrived in less than a minute and found a tactical display being put up on the viewscreen.

Daniel hastily vacated the captain's chair, in order to let Evan take his rightful place, and indicated the screen.

"Sir, two Ardenian warships, identical in configuration to the ones we already destroyed, on a pursuit course. They'll be at our position within the hour, sir," he said.

Evan eyed the moving icons on the tactical display, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. Daniel watched him carefully, awaiting his reply.

"I don't want to stay here and fight," Evan said cautiously. "We don't understand what caused those quantum torpedoes to destroy the Ardenians before, so we can't depend on it happening again."

"What do you propose we do then, Captain?" asked Daniel.

"Run," Evan said succinctly. "Give me some options, Mr. Hader. Where can we go?"

Daniel began searching through the local star systems for a place to hide, and in the meantime, Evan swiveled his chair to face Brexton.

"Brexton, I want you to find out what the hell happened to those battleships we fought," Evan said, "and if we can make it happen again. Review the logs we have of the battle, and see what you can do."

"Aye, sir," Brexton complied.

"Mr. Hader?" Grant asked impatiently.

Daniel finished what he was doing at an accelerated pace, and said, "Sir, I think our best chance is a mutara nebula about twelve light years from here. It's huge, and pretty dense. I would expect we could hide in there for years if we had to," he continued.

"Sounds good," Grant said. "Mr. Hanson, lay in a course for the nebula. Maximum warp."

"Aye, sir," Hanson said. "Course plotted."

"Execute," Evan said with a flourish.

The Sovereign maneuvered intricately through space, engaged in a tight turn to come to bear along her new course, then leapt forward in another flurry of faster than light travel.

"How long until we reach the nebula, Hanson?" Grant asked.

"About twelve minutes, sir, give or take a few," he said.

Evan glanced meaningfully at Daniel.

"Should get us there in plenty of time, sir," he said. "A few more things about the nebula: she's pretty volatile at the core, but not enough to pose a significant risk, unless we engage our impulse engines. We should stick to thrusters, and hang around in the center of the nebula, since the edges aren't dense enough to provide sensor protection."

Evan nodded.

"Sir," Hanson said, "we've received a coded transmission from Starfleet Command!"

"What the hell?" Grant said angrily. "They're jeopardizing our comm. silence!"

"Command has said to expect reinforcements within a day, sir," Hanson said.

"I guess we'll just have to find a way out of that nebula before the Ardenians find us, and double back to meet them," Evan said.

"Just gets better and better, doesn't it, sir?" Brexton commented from Evan's right side.

Evan shook his head, then let it rest on his fist while he thought. He sighed and resumed his former posture, watching the stars fly by on the viewscreen.

End of Part II Part III

Admiral Hayes approached the heavily armored and decorated doors to the council room with some apprehension. This was not altogether unusual, as Admiral Hayes was often apprehensive about having to deal with some of his 'unique' colleagues, but this time was a little different. The difference stemmed from the nature of the apprehension, which was altogether more focused around Captain Evan Grant, his ship, his crew, and his plight. The doors slid slowly, dramatically open, and Hayes was slightly embarrassed to find that he was the last one there. All the other admirals were already seated at their desks.

Without bothering with any of the usual greetings or formalities, Hayes walked briskly to the front of the room, and began his presentation.

"Admirals of the council," he began, "Captain Evan Grant's investigation of the attack on Starbase One has met with some success, and has encountered more difficulty. Twelve hours ago, we received a transmission from the Sovereign, which is presently holding position along the Federation-Cardassian border. She has tracked down the alien race responsible for the assault, or at least all the evidence points to it. While this has not been without difficulty to him and his crew, the details of his search are of limited significance. In any case, while attempting to reach the territory of the alien race in question, namely, the Ardenians, he encountered a battleship, which, after performing a series of bizarre acts, attacked his ship. It failed to do any significant damage to the Sovereign, as a result of this action on the part of Captain Grant."

"What action?" Admiral William Thomson asked preemptively.

"This one," Admiral Hayes said, and tapped a button on the slim datapad that he was holding in his hand. The display screen at the front of the council room came to life, and showed the visual record of the Sovereign's viewscreen as she engaged the Ardenian battleship. It was a simple record, merely showing the launch of a spread of quantum torpedoes at the Ardenian vessel, and the immediate destruction of said vessel.

"This is the record of engagement that was transmitted to us by the Sovereign," Hayes said. "There are several very bizarre details concerning this case, and in order to explain them fully, I'm giving the floor to our resident theorist, Admiral Donovan."

Finished with his part of the briefing, admiral Hayes walked to his plush, comfortable chair, and let Admiral Donovan face the skeptical eyes of the rest of the council.

Donovan was a middle-aged man, perhaps six feet in height, with muscle born of years of combat training, and a simple authority that even the more vain admirals of the council could not ignore.

"The strange part of this visual record, and that of the Sovereign's sensors, is that they both clearly show that the ship was not destroyed by the energy output of the torpedoes. The first few appear to have no effect whatsoever, while the third torpedo speeds straight into the ship, and apparently causes the destruction of the vessel. Since the destruction of the Ardenian ship was clearly not due directly to the quantum torpedo, we must assume that the torpedo caused some kind of reaction to occur in the enemy ship. To understand what this might be, we must go into further detail. During the engagement, the Ardenian warship appears to fade in and out of the space-time continuum. We believe the ship to be capable of time travel. Evan and the rest of his crew reported that they experienced strange sensations as they engaged the ship, almost as if they recalled seeing it before. The computer core disagrees."

"But why would she simply fade in and out of the space time continuum when she wasn't under fire?" asked Admiral Thomson. Admiral Hayes sighed. William was slowing progress.

"We're not quite sure," Donovan said. "Our engineers theorize that it was to minimize the vulnerability of the ship while she powered up her weapons, but that's pure speculation. In any case, when the Ardenian ship phased out of our continuum, she left a quantum energy signature behind. The running theory about why the quantum torpedoes destroyed the warship requires a basic understanding of how the torpedoes work, so I'll break it down for you. A quantum torpedo works by summoning a highly complex and unstable particle from another dimension, then fusing it with a few others, causing a massive release of energy. It's similar in principle to how our very own fusion power generators work. Unfortunately, quantum torpedoes are somewhat unstable in nature, and no two detonations produce exactly the same result. That fact made the quantum principle impractical for power generation, a use of the technology that was once considered. We believe that the Ardenians have somehow mastered this field, and use quantum power generators in their own ships. Now, every time a quantum torpedo detonates, it summons particles from a different dimension. No two torpedoes are likely to access the same dimension, as the selection process is completely random. For the purposes of the torpedo, it makes no, or, very little, difference. However, in this case, we believe it made a very, very big difference. Starfleet intelligence suggests that one of the torpedoes fired by the Sovereign against the Ardenian warship happened to summon a particle from the same dimension that the Ardenian's quantum power generator was operating from, thus destabilizing it-"

"-And precipitating the destruction of the entire vessel," Admiral Hayes finished. "Now, the risk here to the Sovereign, is that we can't guarantee that such a fortunate accident will ever happen again. On the other hand, fire enough torpedoes, and it is bound to, for a quantum torpedo can only summon particles from twenty-four different dimensions. In order to destabilize the reactor of the Ardenian vessel, it has to access just the right one, and that's assuming that the reactors at least overlap dimensions with the torpedoes. In short, we cannot count on another such accident to occur, at least not without providing Grant with a great deal more 'quantum' firepower than he has."

"Is there any way to force the torpedo to utilize a certain dimension?" the annoying Admiral Thomson interjected again.

"Not that we know of," Donovan said. "Rest assured, however, that our engineers are working on it. If any breakthroughs are made, we'll be the first to know."

"In any case, while such investigations are being made, we must endeavor to help the Sovereign complete her mission. Under the circumstances, it seems that reinforcements are the best we can do in this regard. I recommend that we send two additional vessels to her position, both equipped with quantum torpedoes. Stealth capabilities are a must, given that we must now attempt to infiltrate the space of the Ardenians, and make contact with them, which they seem hesitant to do, at least in a peaceful manner."

"Why not send more?" Admiral Thomson asked. "Seems to me that there's strength in numbers here, gentlemen."

Admiral Hayes gritted his teeth, attempting to restrain his temper, and his powerful urge to angrily rebuke William's stupidity.

"Need I remind the admiral that we are attempting to _infiltrate _Ardenian space, which will be infinitely easier if they are not scanning the warp signatures of a task force," he said, placing just enough emphasis on the word 'infiltrate' to be effective. Admiral Thomson opened his mouth as if to speak, but, much to Admiral Hayes' surprised pleasure, closed it again.

"So," Admiral Donovan said, attempting to draw attention away from the two feuding admirals, "we must decide what two ships to send."

"I'll vouch for the Defiant," Admiral Hayes said. "She's perfect for this mission. She has rapid fire quantum torpedoes and a cloaking device, with just enough sensors to make a capable reconnaissance ship."

"An Akira, perhaps, for the other vessel?" Admiral Thomson suggested, his first competence of the meeting. "An Akira class ship isn't big enough to attract much attention, but is well armed and equipped, especially with quantum torpedo launchers."

Admiral Hayes nodded, grudgingly approving the plan. "I believe the U.S.S. Resolute has recently been cleared to undock from Starbase One, or what's left of it, but lacks a mission. I know her captain personally, and he'll perform well under pressure, I know that much," he said.

"It's settled then," Admiral Donovan stated. "I'll order the Defiant and Resolute to the Sovereign's position. It's a pity we don't have any more help to give Captain Grant. Any questions, admirals? No? Good. I'll take care of the rest then," he said perhaps too hastily, giving away his desire to end the council meeting at all costs. It was, after all, two o'clock in the morning, and he was exhausted. Staff meetings were not his specialty either. Donavan liked to think of himself as a field man.

In any case, the admirals stood up and filed out of the room, heading back to their respective homes. Donovan lingered a while, gazing out the window into the San Francisco night sky, then left the room to send his orders to the Defiant and Resolute.

Captain David Harrison stood aboard the bridge of the Defiant, looking out of the bright, utilitarian viewscreen at the dark star field of the Klingon-Federation border, which he was not altogether unhappy to be leaving. He had just received orders from Starfleet Command to rendezvous with the Sovereign. Before giving the order to depart, he surveyed his crew, examining the faces of those whom he had come so desperately to depend on in the last year or two.

There was his helm officer, Jonathan Cochrane, whose name brought many eager questions during introductions, invariably ending with the phrase, "No, no relation."

There was also his tactical officer, George Lowell, who sat at a console near the captain's chair, and his science officer, Sarah Thompson, who manned her under-appreciated station with unrivaled competency. His first officer, William Ford, was sitting at his side, reading a report.

He was quite satisfied with his crew, and his ship, no matter how many jibes about the Defiant's diminutive size he might receive from teasing captains of larger vessels. The Defiant might be small, but she was by no means vulnerable. Indeed, she packed more heavy firepower than most ships in the fleet, coupled with a Romulan cloaking device donated to her during the Dominion War. The Defiant had served in distinction during the war, and had been turned over to his command shortly afterward. It was no small job, being forced to fill the shoes of Admiral Sisko, but Captain Harrison had met the challenge admirably.

He looked at the helm station, then ordered Cochrane, "Lay in a course for the Sovereign, maximum warp."

"Aye, sir," came the prompt response. Harrison had the feeling that he'd plotted the course a long time ago.

"Engage," he said.

Cochrane tapped precisely two buttons, and the Defiant executed her new orders.

"We'll be at the designated co-ordinates in about eight hours, sir," he reported.

Harrison put his head on his fist, and tried to think of ways he could surprise the enemy. In his experience, surprise was by far the best ally that one could have.

Captain Finnardy was in the midst of a parallel experience on his own bridge, that of the Resolute. He surveyed his own crew, Laura Branford, his tactical officer, Jennifer Halley, his first officer, Paul Shelton, his pilot, and Alex Tristan, his science officer. They all looked very, very ready to depart, having been cooped up in Starbase One ever since the attack.

The docking bay had only recently been cleared of debris to the point where ships could safely arrive and depart. They were all itching for something to do, and finally the orders had arrived. Finnardy was not surprised that they involved the Sovereign and Captain Grant. After hearing of Starfleet sending Grant off to investigate the attack, he had often wondered what the hell they expected him to do about it. Apparently they had just now realized that more than one ship was required.

"Mr. Shelton, lay in a course for the Sovereign," he said.

"Course laid in, sir," Shelton replied.

"Well then, take us out of drydock," Finnardy said, gesturing vaguely at the viewscreen in the direction of 'out'.

Shelton grinned with amusement at the captain's mannerisms, and tapped the controls. The Resolute began to accelerate in an exhilarating fashion, and the captain and his first officer were on the edge of their seats as the ship sped out of the same pair of doors that the likes of Captain Kirk, Picard, Grant, Janeway, and Sisko had flown through so many times before.

While the era of perfect visual duplication was in full swing, there was still no equal to the inherently simple, yet breathtaking effect that was produced as one left the confines of spacedock for the freedom of space. "It still gets to me," Finnardy thought with amazement.

In any case, they were now clear of spacedock, and it seemed unwise to keep Evan waiting any longer then necessary. He was in danger, and they were not. Yet.

"Execute," Finnardy ordered, and the Resolute wheeled upwards and turned through space. She stretched forward, almost impossibly, defying hundreds of years of mathematic proofs proving light-speed travel impossible.

Evan paced back and forth on the bridge inside the Sovereign, thinking about how he was going to get the Sovereign out of the Mutara nebula without being intercepted by the two circling Ardenian battleships that the Sovereign's probes had revealed. He was fast coming to the conclusion that their only option was simply to warp out of nebula at top speed, and pray that the 'reinforcements' would be at the designated co-ordinates when they arrived.

"Captain Grant to stellar cartography," came Daniel's voice over Grant's comm. badge. "I have some information you might find interesting."

"I'm on my way," Grant responded. He left the bridge, and reported to stellar cartography. He found Daniel standing and looking thoughtfully at the large display screen, which showed a map of the nebula.

"I've found out something quite odd about this nebula," Daniel said. "If all my calculations are correct, you're not going to believe this."

"You wouldn't believe the blow this mission has dealt to my skepticism," Grant replied wearily. "What is it?"

"Well, at first glance, the nebula appears perfectly normal," Daniel began. "The concentration of particles is almost totally consistent with that of a nebula formed by a supernova."

"But?" Grant asked.

"Analysis of the core of the nebula revealed, based on the amounts of heavy elements present, that it was produced by a certain type of main sequence star. This particular type had a very specific size and energy decay rate after death. Here's the strange thing; the nebula is twelve light years in diameter. As far as I can tell, from the radiation in the core, it's only ten years old."

"That's not possible!" Grant exclaimed. "The shockwave would have to be moving faster than the speed of light to carry the particles that far, and shockwaves don't come with warp drives…"

"I've checked and rechecked, sir. It's true. My only thought as to how this might have occurred, and it's purely speculative, is some kind of temporal anomaly."

"A time warp?" Grant asked.

"In effect, yes," Daniel said.

Grant could have sunk to his knees. His entire universe, with all of its laws and stipulations, had been yanked out from under him. It was infuriating really, but he'd given up caring.

Daniel looked at him sympathetically. "I know exactly how you feel, sir," he said. "Don't even ask me to theorize further, the possibilities are too wild."

"Just one question," Grant pleaded. "Could it have something to do with the Ardenians and their technology?"

"It's possible," Daniel said. "But not certain."

Grant nodded, putting one hand up to his face. Suddenly, he had a headache.

"I'm going to go get some sleep," he said. "I advise you do the same."

Daniel nodded. "Very well, sir. My poor head."

Grant shook his head one more time, then left the room. He found, that despite his exhaustion and preoccupation, that his thoughts centered on Ashley.

"Damn it," he swore to himself. "Of all the times to fall in love." Then he laughed at himself for entertaining such an absurd notion. "As if I had any choice," he thought to himself, then smiled. He changed out of his uniform, and went to bed. He slept and dreamt many confused dreams.

Finnardy stood in an alien laboratory, dimly lit, damaged, and extremely foreboding. His face was dirty, pained, a phaser rifle was strapped across his shoulder, and he was looking about in an worried way. Jennifer Haley stood beside him, also disheveled, also with a phaser rifle across her shoulder. Their science officer, Alex, had his tricorder out, and was scanning the lab cautiously.

His tricorder's proximity alert began to beep steadily when he aimed it at a small, metal table of sorts, on which stood a laboratory computer, and a few other strange objects. Alex moved toward the computer display, curious to see what the illegitimate scientists had been up to. As he approached, he reached out to touch the screen, the apparent mode of access. As he did, Captain Finnardy felt a sudden misgiving rack his body.

"No! Wait!" he yelled to Alex. It was too late, the young officer had already touched the panel. Finnardy watched in horror as it exploded. He threw himself to the ground, and Jennifer was not far behind. Alex was blown backward with horrific speed, and impacted noisily on a nearby wall, clearly dead.

Jennifer grimaced and looked away. Finnardy began to tremble with rage. Shouting a string of expletives completely unsuitable for a Starfleet captain to utter, he roared his defiance as another wave of alien attackers poured through the entrance of the lab. They were fearsome creatures, over two meters tall, all of them armed with piecemeal disruptors, vibroblades, and other weapons.

Finnardy charged forward, firing his phaser rifle rapidly at every target he could find.

Jennifer took cover behind a dark gray metal desk, and gave him cover fire from behind it. Finnardy's life was saved many times by her excellent aim and reflexes. Too many times, he would later realize.

The captain fired his rifle four more times, dropping three more aliens when he felt a searing pain at his left shoulder. He yanked his arm away, giving a cry of pain, and turned to face his assailant. He realized that his quick reaction had probably saved him from dismemberment, as an alien with a vibro-axe was standing next to him, and it was clear that he did not mean well. Finnardy whirled, aimed his phaser at the alien, and pressed the firing stud. Unfortunately, his phaser merely clicked, finally out of power. Finnardy raised his phaser before him, holding it like a club, and brandished it against the advancing alien. The alien swung his axe, and Finnardy moved to block it. Suddenly, one half of his phaser rifle dropped to the ground, sliced apart as if it were butter. He threw the useless half of the phaser he still held in his hand to one side, and charged forward in a surprise attack. The alien tried to swing his axe again, but Finnardy had grabbed its shaft with both hands, and was steadily forcing the double blade back toward the alien's face.

Two phaser blasts whirred past him on either side, and he thanked god that Jennifer was still alive and covering him. He had idly wondered why he was not dead, and Jennifer's cover fire had answered his question. Suddenly, Finnardy found he had won the contest of strength with the alien, and his opponent dropped to the ground with a dull thud.

As he dropped, Finnardy caught sight of a disruptor pistol on the alien's belt. He crouched beside the alien's body, ripped it out of its holster, and brandished it against a fresh wave of attackers. It seemed as if the base contained an unending supply of them, and, he reflected, that was not far from the truth. Finnardy fired two more shots, ducked behind a girder, avoiding some return fire, then returned to the fray.

Jennifer dashed out to his side, and took cover at an adjacent girder.

"Any ideas?" she asked breathlessly, whirling out to fire a few more shots, then tucking herself neatly out of harm's way once more.

"You mean, 'How the hell are we going to get out of here?'" Finnardy paraphrased. "We're going to have to find the source of the dampening field that's blocking our comm. badges. I'd guess it's somewhere in there," Finnardy said, nodding toward a door where several more aliens poured out, weapons at the ready.

"Frankly, I don't envy our odds," Jennifer said, looking very worried.

"Neither do I," Finnardy said grimly, setting his disruptor to overload. He tossed it out to the door and waited for the ensuing blast. It came, knocking back at least a dozen aliens and clearing a path to the door.

"Come on!" Jennifer said, recognizing the brief opportunity they now had.

In unison, the two officers vacated their cover, Jennifer firing blindly, Finnardy weaponless, and dashed through the open door, finding themselves in a new room.

It was expansive, and filled with a variety of ancient, unsafe, illegal, and largely primitive equipment for the production of narcotics, the main reason that Finnardy and his team were here to start with. Unfortunately, in addition to being filled with equipment, it was also full of hostile aliens. Jennifer and he were the only survivors of the initial force, now trapped inside the structure with no means of escape, pursuing one last, desperate hope to create one.

"Start scanning, sir!" Jennifer yelled desperately, as several aliens poured into the room. She didn't have much phaser power left, besides the spare battery that remained on her belt, and after that ran out, they would be weaponless. And dead.

Finnardy hastily drew his tricorder, scanning hurriedly for the source of the dampening field. A disruptor blast flew by his head and landed on a chemical canister of some sort behind him, which immediately began venting some sort of gas. Guessing that it was hazardous, he ducked behind a nearby desk and slid under it.

"I've almost got it," Finnardy shouted to Jennifer. She was hurriedly changing the battery on her rifle, so he knew they hadn't much time.

Suddenly his tricorder beeped, and highlighted an object on its small display. It was the generator.

"It's that one!" he yelled, pointing to a boxy, ancient looking object in the middle of the room. "Blow it up!"

"I'm on it!" Jennifer yelled, and made her way closer to it, fighting off aliens on the way. The room was too crowded with garbage to take a shot at it yet, so she had to approach. Luckily, all the equipment in the room was making it difficult for the aliens to find and kill them.

Finnardy heard a grunt behind him, and began playing a deadly game of tag with an alien brandishing a vibroblade. Finally, after what seemed like forever, with Finnardy dodging thrusts of the blade, which pulverized many nearby objects, Jennifer had come close enough to take a shot. Setting her rifle to maximum power, and knowing that if it didn't destroy the device, she'd be pretty much out of power, she fired a shot at the generator.

A weak, commercial grade forcefield surrounding the generator flickered and went out. Jennifer grimaced, checked her power, and saw there was enough for just one more blast. She fired it, and watched with satisfaction as the generator sparked, then exploded, showering the nearby area with pieces of cheap metal and scavenged isolinear components.

Finnardy watched all this occur, and tapped his comm. badge, about to call for help. He began to speak, then stiffened as he felt a disruptor blast hit him squarely in the back. He would have cried out, but he fell to his knees, suddenly unable to move or speak, and fell all the way to the ground as another blast hit him.

Jennifer heard the shots, and saw Finnardy fall to the ground. She would have run to his side, but she was unarmed, and suddenly an alien grabbed her from behind. He was pinning her to the ground with ridiculous strength, and in his raised hand he had a knife.

"Computer," she managed to gasp, knowing that it was at last over, "end program."

The alien lab disappeared, with all its desks, canisters of foul smelling chemicals, smugglers, aliens, weapons, and traps, and left behind an undamaged, but hard breathing Captain Finnardy and Commander Jennifer Halley, lying on the ground. Alex Tristan stood leaning on the wall of the holodeck, a simple black room decorated only by a yellow grid, a holographic projector of unparalleled sophistication used for safely simulating dangerous situations.

Alex extended a hand to Jennifer, helping her up, as Finnardy got to his feet under his own power.

"Oh man," he said. "Laura's not going to be happy with us." Jennifer and Alex grimaced, silently agreeing with him.

Right on cue, the bulky doors to the holodeck slid open, and there was Laura Branford, ship's tactical officer, looking positively livid.

"Of all the sad displays of _incompetence_ that I have _ever_ seen," she said, "that was the absolute worst! sir," she added, somehow wrenching the word out, though respect for her commanding officer was not exactly foremost on her mind right now.

"Laura, take a deep breath," Alex said. "It was only a simulation! Find me a real narcotic production site with an infinite supply of well-trained pirates! Give me a break! I suppose that exploding console is standard issue too!"

"Commander," Laura said slowly, walking toward him with a menacing look on her face, "do you really think that everything you will ever encounter on an away mission is what you _expect_ it to be? Because if you do, you picked the wrong job, mister!" Alex had been steadily backing away for this entire exchange, and now he shot a pleading glance at Finnardy, who decided it was time to end this.

"Enough!" he bellowed, immediately subduing his tactical officer.

"If you're not satisfied with our performance, we'll work on this more later," Jennifer offered calmingly. "In the meantime, we're approaching the Sovereign's co-ordinates. It's time for us all to get to the bridge."

The crew exchanged glances, then filed out of the holodeck, Jennifer in the lead. They took a pair of turbolifts to the bridge. Stars were still streaking by, and the Resolute was still at warp.

"Four minutes until we arrive," Paul Shelton, the helmsman, said, anticipating Finnardy's question.

Alex, back at the science console, where he felt he belonged, raised an eyebrow.

"The Sovereign's not there, sir," he said, looking at Finnardy, perplexed. "I have no reading on the Defiant either," he continued, "telemetry or otherwise."

Finnardy leaned back in his chair, thinking hard.

"The Sovereign might have been forced to run," Finnardy theorized out loud. "Alex, any likely hiding places nearby?"

Alex studied his console intently. "Only a mutara nebula about two parsecs from here. It's twelve light years in diameter!" he said, looking again at Captain Finnardy.

"We'll never find them in there," Finnardy realized. "We're going to have to wait for the Sovereign to come to us. Grant's no fool, and he knows we're coming. He'll turn up."

"Let's hope we're not dead before he does," Jennifer muttered under her breath.

"What's that, Commander?" Finnardy asked sharply.

"Nothing, sir," she replied primly.

Finnardy smiled shrewdly. He knew better.

"Dropping out of warp," Shelton reported. "We are approaching the designated co-ordinates at full impulse. Ten thousand kilometers and closing." A few seconds later, he added, "We're in position sir."

"No sign of either the Defiant or Sovereign," Alex reported.

"Now we wait," Finnardy said.

"Oh boy," Jennifer said.

"Oh, come on," Finnardy said. "We all know that's your favorite thing to do." He eyed his first officer warily, expecting a response, and hoping that it would not be violent. He failed to get a rise.

Evan Grant was pacing the bridge of the Sovereign, facing a difficult decision. He had to decide when to try to break out of the nebula. "It's now or never," he decided. "Our reinforcements should already be in position. Hanson, get us out of here, full impulse."

"Aye, sir," Hanson said, and pushed the requisite buttons.

The Sovereign leapt forward, although anyone on the bridge would have been hard pressed to tell you so. The endless stream of mysterious, purple, particles continued much as it had for he past twelve hours, albeit imperceptibly quickened.

"We'll be out of the nebula in approximately five minutes, sir," Daniel reported.

"When we're out, plot a course directly to the coordinates. I want to be there as soon as possible," Grant ordered. "With those two battleships out there, we're going to need all the help we can get."

Five minutes later, the Sovereign burst free of the nebula, shedding the last vestiges of ionized gas, and in an attractive switch from the norm, trailing fire from her impulse engines. It was simply ignited gas, but an artist could have wept to see the gorgeous fiery oranges and reds flaring out behind the Sovereign.

Brexton's console suddenly came to life, beeping at him insistently, to warn of impending danger. He was happy to have something to do, having been bored silly in the nebula for the last day. He was not, however, happy to see what his console had to say for itself.

"Captain, I have a fix on both Ardenian battleships," he reported. "Neither of them is within weapons range, but they are both quite near to our position."

"Get us to the rendezvous!" Grant commanded. "Maximum warp!"

The Sovereign exploded into warp speed once more.

"Sir, I have the Sovereign on sensors!" Alex reported excitedly aboard the Resolute. "And two alien warships, powering up from some kind of stealth mode! They've all jumped to warp and are heading to our position.

"Let's get ready for them!" Finnardy said, sounding businesslike once more. "Laura, go to red alert! Arm quantum torpedoes."

"Yes, sir," Laura said with satisfaction.

The red alert klaxon sounded all throughout the Akira class warship, and soon Finnardy's voice could be heard over the intercom saying "All hands to battle stations. Prepare to engage the enemy."

"Put the tactical display on the viewscreen," Finnardy ordered.

His order was carried out speedily, and soon a grid was displayed on screen. On it was a huge purple blur, presumably the nebula, and close by it were three icons. One was blue, and clearly represented the Sovereign, and the other two were red. They were pursuing the Sovereign. A larger distance away was another blue icon, the Resolute. The Defiant was still nowhere to be seen. As Finnardy watched, the three smaller icons grew closer and closer, until they seemed to be merely a stone's throw away. Of course, this distance on the viewscreen represented thousands of kilometers, but still, Finnardy felt like the deck should be bucking beneath him any second now.

"They've dropped to impulse," Laura reported.

"Switch to visual," Finnardy said, and the viewscreen promptly displayed two Ardenian battleships and the Sovereign, still in the lead, but barely. Suddenly, weapons fire lanced out from the battleships and struck at the Sovereign, whose shields lit up, deflecting the blow.

"Let's get in there and give 'em a hand," Finnardy suggested.

"Glad to," Laura replied, and took over helm controls. She was now essentially in control of the Resolute, fully tuned for battle.

The Sovereign maneuvered just by the Resolute, then spun around with surprising agility to face the Ardenian attackers, this time with the Resolute for fire support.

"Order the Resolute to target the lead battleship," Grant said. "We'll both try and take out that one first, then engage the other. Fire all weapons at will," he continued, knowing that Brexton would focus on releasing as many quantum torpedoes as possible to attempt to recreate the accident that had destroyed the Ardenians before.

"The Resolute has responded. She's following orders," Hanson said.

The two Starfleet ships pounded away at the lead Ardenian battleship, firing phaser burst after phaser burst into its shields, releasing quantum torpedoes at every opportunity. The battleships, determined not to go down without a fight, fired back with everything they had, a considerable arsenal. They both targeted the Resolute, in hope of taking out the smaller target rapidly, that they might focus their entire attention on the Sovereign later. Hanson, however, was having none of it, maneuvering his ship between the battleships and the Resolute whenever possible. The Resolute, however, was feeling the pinch.

"Report!" Finnardy ordered as the ship bucked under another round of disruptor fire. The lights flickered, but came back on.

"Shields down to fifty percent!" Laura reported, turning her face to one side as a shower of sparks erupted from her console. "The Ardenian battleships don't even seem to be hurting, sir!" she said, looking frustrated.

"Damn," Finnardy swore. "Where the hell is the Defiant! We need them now!"

On the bridge of the Sovereign, Daniel shook his head. "We haven't gotten lucky yet, and the Resolute's looking pretty bad, sir," he reported.

Grant shook his head angrily. "We may have to withdraw before she gets physically damaged," he conceded. "Stand by to give the order," he said to Hanson.

"Sir! Small vessel decloaking off the port bow!" Brexton exclaimed, his face incredulous.

Grant spun in his chair to face Brexton, looking alarmed. "What?" he asked.

"It's the Defiant, sir!" Brexton said with a grin on his face.

Grant let out a breath. "Whewww…" he said.

"Incoming transmission from the Defiant, sir," Paul said.

Finnardy shook his head, irritated, as David Harrison's face appeared on the viewscreen.

"Where the hell have you been, Captain?" he demanded to know.

David sighed. "We've been here all along," he admitted. "We needed to make sure the Ardenians couldn't detect us under cloak, so I had to stay hidden. My apologies."

Finnardy let out an aggravated breath. "Well, you're here now, so let's get to work. We could use a little cover."

"Acknowledged," David said. Then, hardly able to resist such a fine opportunity to get in a jibe, said, "I'd noticed. David out."

Finnardy looked angrily at the viewscreen. "When this is over, if either of us are still alive, I'll have his hide—"

He was interrupted as another disruptor blast hit his ship. It was time to get back to business.

"Never mind," Finnardy said. "Co-ordinate our attack with the Defiant and Sovereign's. Full spread of quantum torpedoes. Fire!"

Seven armed quantum torpedoes sped out toward one of the Ardenian battleships. The Sovereign launched three more, which were supplemented by four from the Defiant.

Finnardy watched with awe as this immense conflagration of firepower converged on the lead warship. Stored in those torpedoes was a truly awesome amount of firepower, to which the Ardenians seemed immune. "Still," Finnardy thought and prayed. "we might get lucky."

The torpedoes began to hit the bulky ship, and once more had no discernable effect. Then, something in one of the torpedoes clicked. It detonated, and the battleship exploded.

"Yes!" exclaimed Laura, but her exultation was short lived. A large chunk of debris from the battleship flew out and smashed directly into the saucer section of the Resolute. An immense sheet of hull plating was sheared off the ship, and flew out into space. Their dorsal shields were completely down now.

On the bridge, the ship seemed to be exploding. Not meant to handle anywhere near this much stress, some of the Resolute's systems were shutting down, and she responded sluggishly to her helm. Finnardy concluded that they were of no more use.

"Pull us out!" he ordered. "Best speed, take us a parsec away, and hover there. We'll have to hope the Sovereign and Defiant can take the last ship alone."

"Aye, sir," Paul acknowledged. The wounded Resolute crept slowly off of the battlefield, ignored by the other combatants.

"Switch targets!" David yelled on the bridge of the Defiant, shielding his eyes as the Ardenian battleship exploded.

"Aye, sir," Lowell responded from the tactical station. The viewscreen switched focus to the last Ardenian battleship, and Cochrane maneuvered the ship closer, in an attack pattern.

Pulse phasers shot out from the Defiant's warp nacelles, supplemented by quantum torpedoes. Neither had any noticeable effect on the Ardenian ship's performance. The Sovereign put in her own two cents, unleashing a hellish barrage of energy and torpedoes. Still no effect.

At least five, fully charged, highly dangerous disruptor beams lanced out from the Ardenian battleship, catching the Sovereign full on the underside of her saucer section.

Her ventral shields failing, the Federation warship quickly executed a barrel roll, transferring the burden to her dorsal shields, which were still strong. Still the volley of energy continued, and still the Sovereign maneuvered, trying to break away. The beams went on for what seemed like forever, David observed, until they finally gave up the attack as the Sovereign danced out of range.

Shaking his head in worry over the immense amounts of energy the Ardenian ship had just released, he ordered another attack pattern that would put the Defiant's maneuverability to good use. The Defiant wheeled up and over the top of the Ardenian ship, rolling all the while, came straight down at the top of the vessel, firing quantum torpedoes and pulse phasers, then pulled up mere meters before she would have collided. Increasing speed, the Defiant dipped down over the side of the ship, angled off, firing her rear-facing quantum torpedo launcher, then came in again at the underbelly of the Ardenian ship. The battleship, infuriated by this determined assault, fired energy beams carelessly, occasionally glancing the Defiant, but doing no real damage to her strong shields or ablative armor.

Then the Sovereign came in from above, firing quantum torpedoes and phasers. The Ardenian ship shook and exploded, once more showering the area with pieces of debris. The Defiant and Sovereign managed to avoid a repeat incident of what happened to the Resolute.

The Defiant sped toward the Resolute, jumped to warp, and arrived at her position seconds later, followed closely by the Sovereign.

On the bridge of the Sovereign, Grant commanded, "Open a channel to both vessels," and his order was hastily carried out. On one half of the viewscreen, Captain Finnardy's face appeared, and on the other half was Captain Harrison's. They could all hear anything any one of them said. David raised one eyebrow, waiting for someone to break the silence.

Grant sighed, knowing that a full explanation of their circumstances would take a good deal of time.

"Captain Finnardy," he asked, "How bad is it?"

Finnardy grimaced. "Could be a little worse, could be a lot better. We have partial main power, but our hull integrity is down to fifty percent, and until we get the power distribution grid back online, there's not much we can do about that."

"We can replicate you some extra hull plating," Grant offered.

Finnardy grinned. "I forgot, you're in that god-awful monstrosity," he said, referring to the Sovereign as if carrying industrial grade replicators was some sort of sin.

"Unfortunately," he continued, "I'm not in any position to turn you down, but first things first. What the hell is going on?"

"Indeed," David said from the Defiant. "What is going on here? Starfleet was just a _little_ sketchy on the details."

Evan could tell from the way he pronounced 'little' that Harrison was understating the situation.

"I see," he said. "I have an idea," he continued, "Since this story is going to take some telling. How about you two transport over here for dinner tonight, and we'll tuck away our ships in the Nebula and have a conference?"

David nodded, although he was clearly miffed that he would have to wait some more for the details.

"He'll live," Evan thought to himself.

Finnardy sighed, then nodded. "Sounds like a plan," he said.

"Very good," Grant said. "We'll make preparations to have you beamed aboard."

"Already en route to the transporter room," David said, standing up. Finnardy did likewise, so Grant brought the discussion to a close. "Grant out," he said, and Hanson closed the channel.

"Fascinating," said Brexton. "An interesting bunch of 'reinforcements,' don't you think?"

Grant sighed. "Just drop the shields, Commander," he said. Brexton did as he was ordered.

"Energizing," Brexton reported. "I have them, sir," he said.

Grant nodded, then turned to the viewscreen.

"Set a course for the nebula, low warp," he ordered.

"Course plotted, sir," Hanson confirmed.

"Get us out of here," Grant said.

The makeshift fleet under the command of Evan Grant moved into formation, then made the jump to warp, keeping their speeds relatively low to make it harder to track them.

Evan's comm. badge chirped. "Sickbay here," came Mavon's voice. "A certain officer of your acquaintance is regaining consciousness," she reported.

Evan smiled. In the course of the battle he'd forgotten about Ashley. Hopefully she was fit for duty, he thought. It would be nice to have her on the bridge again.

"I'm on my way," he said. He tapped his comm. badge again, closing the channel. "Mr. Hader, you have the bridge," he told Daniel.

The commander took the captain's chair as Grant left the bridge. He entered the turbolift, leaning back against the wall, as the computer queried "Destination?"

"Sickbay," Evan said shortly, and waited as the turbolift whirred to life. It really was an amazing machine, he thought to himself, with inertial dampeners so finely tuned that he couldn't even feel the acceleration, try as he might.

The thing that really set the Federation apart from its galactic competitors was precision. Federation ships were so carefully built, so finely tuned, and so versatile that even powerful warships, filled with power generators and weapons to the breaking point could be subdued with ease. The Sovereign didn't need brute force, she needed grace, and she had plenty of it.

The turbolift doors opened, depositing Grant at the proper section. He walked down the corridor, arriving at sickbay a few moments later. The doors slid open, and he saw Ashley sitting up, with Mavon scanning her with a tricorder. Ashley looked less than thrilled, but when she saw Evan, her face brightened. Mavon smiled as Evan walked in, looking from Ashley to Grant as if she knew some secret.

Evan wondered if she'd been meddling again. His question was quickly answered when Ashley jumped off the table and ran to him, embracing him in a hug that was as unexpected as it was welcome. As he looked down into her eyes, he saw a change in them. He couldn't quite pin down what it was, perhaps understanding? Happiness, certainly, and maybe, though he hardly dared hope, love? Something had changed, that was certain, and she smiled at him. All this happened in less than ten seconds, and she drew back from him after a bit. He stopped looking at Ashley long enough to throw a suspicious glance at Mavon, who turned away to hide a smile. She knew of his affection for Ashley.

What he didn't know, but suspected, was that she had told the first officer of it. Ashley had looked pleased but cautious upon hearing the news, but Mavon would let Grant find out that for himself.

Evan quickly reverted his focus back to Ashley.

"It's good to have you back, Commander," he said.

"It's good to be back," she said, smiling at him.

"Is she ready for duty?" Grant asked Mavon.

"I don't see why not," she responded. "Just don't order her to do anything physically strenuous," she cautioned. "The commander needs to regenerate a little more blood first."

Evan nodded. "We're out of danger for another twelve hours or so," he judged. This was confirmed when his comm. badge chirped, and Hanson's voice was heard. "We're inside the nebula, Captain," he reported, then closed the channel.

Hardly a minute had passed, during which Evan began to explain everything that had happened since Ashley had been attacked, when Captains Finnardy and Harrison strode through the door to sickbay, accompanied by their first officers, Jennifer Halley, and William Ford, respectively.

Evan was inwardly surprised to see so many humans manning all the important positions on the three ships. Gone, he thought wistfully, were the days of diversity. Many of the Federation's member planets had become more cautious about military service since the Dominion war, during which so many had died. Earth was now providing a great deal of the manpower that ran the Federation. It was a pity, he thought, but temporary.

Introductions were made, and Evan recognized the opportunity to bring everyone up to speed at the same time, including his first officer.

"Let's meet in the mess hall at eighteen-hundred hours," Evan said. "I regret the need to beam you all over before then, but our transporters won't function in the nebula," he explained.

Harrison and Finnardy nodded.

"In the meantime, why don't you help yourself to our holodecks?" he proposed. "We have quite a selection."

"No thank you," Finnardy said. "I've had quite enough of simulations for one day."

Evan noticed Jennifer trying to hide a smile but failing miserably. He raised one eyebrow.

"It's nothing…" Jennifer began.

"It's all right Commander. I can tell a private joke when I see one," Grant said.

She nodded and looked away, still trying to hide a smile.

Several hours later, they all met in the mess hall for a strategy conference. Evan explained to them the events of the mission, and by the time he was done, he was becoming hoarse, but at least everyone knew what was going on. Then, he took questions, and the debate began. The officers ate in between comments, and somehow managed to enjoy the luscious feast put before them by the talented cook of the Sovereign.

"So… I'm still a little fuzzy on what the hell Starfleet wants us to do!" Finnardy protested. "What are our objectives?"

"To determine what the Ardenians' motive is in launching this attack on the Federation," Grant clarified, putting a slice of steak in his mouth.

"By attack, I assume you mean the ramming of the Prometheus, sir?" Jennifer asked, wishing to leave no room for misunderstanding.

Grant was about to speak, when Ashley beat him to it.

"Yes," she said simply, then took a bite of mashed potatoes. Grant smiled gratefully at her.

"And how are we supposed to pull this off?" Finnardy asked. "Just fly into their system where our sensors will magically inform us what the hell they want? I assume you've already tried to contact them," he said between bites.

"Yes, we've already made several attempts," Grant said. "Needless to say, there have been no responses."

"So how are we supposed to determine motivation?" David asked with frustration.

"As for that," Grant said, "I have an idea." He leaned conspiratorially forward to outline his plan. "We're going to need some kind of leverage. Something to make them talk to us."

"Well, we certainly don't have anything they want," Jennifer said, forking up some salad. "So how are we going to get this 'leverage'?"

"You're quite right, Commander," Evan said. "But we do have one thing they can't quite match."

"And that would be?" she asked saucily.

"The Defiant," Ashley said, catching on to Grant's plan, and grinning as she did so. "It can cloak."

"So…?" Jennifer asked. "I don't see the relevance."

She looked around the table to see if anyone else understood. The coast appeared to be clear, except for David, who was staring at Grant with a disturbed expression on his face.

"What is it?" Jennifer asked.

"You're nuts," David said to Grant firmly.

Grant just chuckled, and looked away.

"He gets it," Grant informed the others.

"You're nuts," David said again. "There's no way…"

"What _is it_?" Jennifer wanted to know, now annoyed.

"It's very simple, Commander," David said. "You see, Captain Grant wants me to sneak into Ardenian space, orbit their home world, target my quantum torpedoes at some important installation on the surface, and threaten them until they cry uncle. Evidently, I'm supposed to hope they have no planetary defenses or fleets nearby, as well."

Grant smiled again. "That's where we come in," he said. "We're going to have to lure the Ardenians out after us, while you get into position."

Jennifer made a face. "It was a gutsy idea," she thought.

"And what if the Ardenians can detect our cloak?" William Ford asked.

"They can't," Grant answered quickly. "David already proved that."

Finnardy threw David a dirty look, as memories of his 'late' arrival resurfaced. Ashley rolled her eyes at the two of them.

Finnardy turned back to Grant, looking mildly insulted.

"So let me get this straight," he said, dropping his fork to his plate, and dropping all pretenses of hunger. Ashley grimaced, anticipating a tirade. She was right.

"You and I," he said, gesturing to indicate Grant and himself, "Are going to take on whatever mobile planetary defenses the Ardenians have, probably dozens of ships, luring them away from their precious home world, while Harrison, here, holds an entire planet at gunpoint, and hopes the Ardenians feel like telling us the truth? Meanwhile—"

"mmmfff," Jennifer interrupted with her mouth closed. "Good," she said, referring to the cheesecake the cook had just delivered to the table. Ashley had to stifle her laughter at the commander's audacity. The rest of the officers confronted Jennifer with affronted looks. "What?" she asked, feigning confusion. "It is!"

"Meanwhile," Finnardy cut in, "Starfleet sits on its ass waiting for our report, expecting three ships to come through, somehow, with limited ammo and no chance of reinforcements or resupply? Does that sound about right?"

"You have a better idea?" Grant asked.

"Nope," Finnardy replied, suddenly humbled.

"Then that's the plan, people," Grant said. Harrison looked as if he had just been sentenced to death, and Ashley sympathized. It wasn't a pretty situation. Still, all the officers there were resolved to do their best, and as they had all proved many times in the past, that was no small thing. Jennifer merely looked thoughtful, and looked out at the nebula with her head on her fist, as she put another bite of cheesecake in her mouth.

Grant took a sip of wine. The rest of the meal continued in silence, with very little present to lighten the mood. Ashley rose from the meal, and Evan felt her leg brush his under the table. He started to give her a sharp look, then as he saw her face he realized it had been completely unintentional. He looked away, again, slightly annoyed with himself that he had jumped to conclusions.

She took her plate over to the galley, and Evan followed close behind, excusing himself from the meal. Hunger was perhaps the last thing on his mind right then.

Ashley walked briskly out of the mess hall, and Evan returned his plate, and jogged briefly to catch up to her. Hearing his footsteps behind her, she turned, as he came through the doors into the corridors.

"I'm sorry, sir, I really didn't mean-" she began, but Evan silenced her, raising a hand.

"I know," he said, preventing her apology. "I just—"

"It's ok," she said. "Sir."

"Call me Evan," he said. "We're not technically on duty anymore."

"Ok, Evan," she said, grinning at him.

They came to the turbolift, and stepped in together. There was no one else inside, and Ashley ordered it to deck ten, where both of their quarters were located. They were alone together, and a brief, but awkward, silence ensued.

Suddenly, Evan, no longer able to bear the suspense, said "Hold," and the turbolift stopped short.

He turned to face Ashley, who was looking expectantly up at him. "All right," he said, taking a deep breath. "I think it's time you and I came to an understanding about something, seeing as we are going to be working very closely over the next couple of days. So, just to get this out there, here it is; I—"

"You love me, I know," Ashley said. Grant looked taken aback, but not altogether displeased. "It's kind of obvious," Ashley went on. "Or at least, Mavon and I thought so."

Grant nodded, his suspicions confirmed.

"Anyway," he said, "I thought you should be aware, and I wanted you to know that I won't let it affect how we interact—"

"I love you, too," Ashley interrupted again. "Evan, I love you," she said again, with tears in her eyes. "I've known it ever since you saved my life on that Sumari ship." She sighed, feeling that her words were inadequate, but knowing that what she was saying would change their relationship forever.

Grant stood back a pace, taken aback once more, and very hard pressed not to show it. Suddenly unsure of how to react to this startling, but most welcome, development, he folded her into his arms, embracing her once more. She put her arms around him, and buried her face in his chest for a moment. They began to part, but Evan didn't let go completely. He kept his arms around her waist, and looked into her eyes for a moment. Suddenly, he became aware of how close their faces were, and he could have sworn that she was leaning toward him, almost imperceptibly. He leaned toward her a little farther, and then their faces were even closer, and then, closer, and then… touching. Evan kissed her, slowly, and gently, at first, and then more powerfully, feeling her arms, which had gone up to encircle his neck. After perhaps ten seconds, they parted, and resumed standing at each other's sides, with satisfied expressions on their faces.

"Resume," he said breathlessly. The turbolift whirred to life once more, and Evan and Ashley exchanged loving glances, hard pressed to keep control over their emotions.

The turbolift doors opened, and Evan accompanied Ashley to her quarters, talking all the way. When they had arrived, the doors opened, and Ashley went inside. Evan started to turn to leave, when the young woman turned around and took both of his hands in hers. She pulled him into her quarters insistently. When the doors had closed once more, the soft lights of her quarters found Evan and Ashley kissing once more, this time passionately, longingly, slowly, and lovingly. It was long kiss, lasting for many seconds, and when they parted it was with great reluctance.

"We should get some sleep," Evan said, breaking the silence that followed. Ashley nodded hurriedly, acknowledging the truth of his statement, and looking at him with love in her eyes.

"I'll see you on the bridge tomorrow," she said to him in a soft voice.

He nodded, and then kissed her one last time, quickly. He departed, with no further words. As the doors to her quarters slid shut, he smiled broadly to himself. Slowly taking off his rank pips in the middle of the corridor to indicate that he was off duty, he tossed one of them in the air and caught it again, humming beneath his breath.

He came to his own quarters and stepped inside, only to find a phaser jammed up against his gut. He looked slowly up from his hands, where he had been examining his rank pips, and saw a sight that filled him with disbelief. Ensign Lara Hawkwood. The same Lara Hawkwood that had replaced Daniel on the bridge, when they had gone down to investigate Rowaawa. The same Lara Hawkwood that had 'not detected' the three incoming Cardassian Keldons that had forced the Sovereign to break orbit and temporarily abandon her captain, science officer, and helmsman to the mercy of the Rowaawans.

There was a satisfied smile on her face as the realization of what had happened sunk in. He had been about to investigate her console, when something had happened, and diverted his attention. He'd forgotten all about the incident until just now, as she had stayed out of his way. Now he regretted it. Before he could do anything, she yanked him inside his quarters and out of sight.

"YOU!" he said, furious. "It was you all along!"

She nodded, smiling grimly as she tore his comm. badge off his uniform. She dropped it to the ground at her feet, and with a strong stomp, reduced it to numerous pieces, still holding a phaser to Evan's gut.

"If you fire that," he said calmly, "Alarms will go off all over the ship."

"It doesn't matter anymore," she responded curtly. "Soon your mission will either be complete or failed, and the Cardassians will have been shorted once more, their territory invaded, their Sovereignty violated. Not again!" she said, with sudden fury. "I'll stop you. I'd hoped to have their ships do it, but you managed to evade them. So it's up to me now. I wanted you to know how miserably you'd failed," she said. "How your negligence would seal the fate of the Federation," she went on, taunting Evan as he stood, helpless.

"Now do you understand," she went on, "why those three Keldons showed up?"

Evan shook his head, still puzzled. "I wasn't there," he said slowly, wondering what she meant.

"Those sensor modifications we made that allowed the Sovereign to find you, trapped in prison on Rowaawa?" she told him. "I made them. They were my idea. And you know what? Ashley sent me down to engineering to put them in place. Just enough time to send out a covert radiation signal," Lara said, looking very pleased with herself.

"But then she ran," Evan said. "You didn't expect that. You thought that her loyalty to me would blind her to the needs of the ship, didn't you?" he continued, a rising rage in his voice at the deception perpetrated by this woman.

Lara nodded slowly. "Yes, you're catching on, now," she said. "Pity it's too late."

Ashley lay in her quarters, unable to sleep, still excited about her kiss with the captain. She lay back in her bed, reliving the moment and curled up, getting herself comfortable. Suddenly, she sat bolt upright, remembering something important.

"Wait a minute," she said to herself slowly. She rose from bed, and walked over to a data terminal in her room. She brought up various computer records, searching for one in particular. She found the stardate she wanted, looked it up, and opened it. "Bingo," she said softly. They were the bridge sensor logs for the day that the Sovereign had been chased away from Rowaawa by Keldons. She was about to double check the ensign's story.

She opened the file for the science console, and played them back from the appropriate time, simultaneously running the bridge visual recorder logs. Three Keldons appeared on the science display, and nothing happened. They were several light years from the Sovereign. Minutes passed, and she fast-forwarded through some of it, until the visual recorder showed chaos erupting on the bridge. Lara had just informed Ashley of the incoming ships, when they were already upon the Sovereign. Ashley's stomach dropped sickeningly as she realized that her suspicions had been correct. Lara was the traitor.

"Shit!" she swore loudly, though no one was there to hear her.

She ran over to her nightstand, picked up her comm. badge and pressed it. "Ashley to Captain Grant," she said urgently. "Please respond," she said, hoping that he wouldn't already be asleep. There was no response.

"Computer," she said, "where is the captain?"

"The captain's comm. signal cannot be located," the computer replied.

That was odd, she thought to herself. Even if he was asleep, he should have been locatable.

"Computer, where is the captain's life sign?" Ashley queried once more.

"The captain is in his quarters," the computer replied.

"Now that's damn peculiar," she said to herself. "What the hell is going on?" Then a terrible thought occurred to her. "No," she said slowly, shaking her head. "There's no way." But she had to know. She needed one last answer from the computer.

"Computer, locate Ensign Lara Hawkwood," she ordered.

"Ensign Lara Hawkwood is in the captain's quarters," the computer answered.

"Oh my god," Ashley said. She ran back to the data terminal and accessed the camera in Grant's quarters. She saw Lara holding a phaser to Evan's stomach.

She bit her lip anxiously. Then she had an idea.

"Why?" Evan asked Lara angrily. "Why?" he repeated.

"Some of us think the Cardassians got the worse end of the Dominion treaty," Lara replied. "And some of us want justice done," she said. "I was one of the volunteers."

"There are others?" Evan said, pretending not to be surprised.

"Yes," Lara said, and continued to talk. As she did so, however, Evan's attention was grabbed by something else. He heard a soft noise, almost imperceptibly soft, and something started to glimmer a few feet away, behind Lara. He could just see it over her left shoulder. Soon he could see that it was some kind of transporter operation, and something materialized on the floor nearby.

"That almost looks like a stun grena—"he thought to himself as it exploded. Suddenly everything was black.

Ashley stood on the bridge, looking very tired. The Sovereign was cruising through the nebula on thrusters. She was staring blankly at the viewscreen, and the purple-reddish backgrounds faded in and out, each one looking exactly the same as the last, yet different. Ashley pressed the comm. button to sickbay from the captain's chair. "Any change?" she asked.

"Not yet, Commander," Mavon said, sounding exasperated. She had good reason to, Ashley knew, as this was perhaps the fifth time that she'd tried to check on Evan's status. She regretted the need to hurt him in the process of her unorthodox solution to the hostage crisis. She'd beamed a stun grenade into his quarters, far enough away from Lara to escape her notice, but close enough to knock the pair of them out when it blew up. As soon as they were out, a security team had stormed into the room and carried Lara off to the brig, and Evan off to sickbay. It had been an effective solution, but still, Ashley had not relished the idea of knocking the man she loved to kingdom come.

She continued staring at the viewscreen, watching the eerie, boring, collection of gas and dust pass the ship. Ashley was beginning to close her eyes drowsily, when she noticed a faint outline of something appear on the screen. She closed her eyes, blinked a few times, and there it was, even darker than before. Suddenly, as the ship moved forward, it resolved into crystal clear, three-dimensional, focus. Ashley stared in surprise as the huge, molten-looking, metallic object drifted dangerously close to the ship.

"Hard to starboard!" Ashley exclaimed, praying that she was in time. The helmsman hit the controls hurriedly, and the Sovereign lurched into a hard turn to starboard, simultaneously pulling up to get out of the way. Just as Ashley was about to let out a sigh of relief, a slight jolt jarred the ship. Anyone looking through the viewscreen toward the crew's faces would have seen an expression of awful pain on every one, as the tip of the object etched a deep, indelible scar on the underside of the Sovereign's engineering hull.

"Not again!" Ashley cried out. "Evan's gonna kill me," she said, and put her head back in her hands. The crew exchanged confused glances. Ashley's chair suddenly felt very uncomfortable, as she sank back into it.

Evan opened his eyes and blinked, bringing his vision back into focus. His head swam, and, suddenly feeling a sensation of falling, he struggled to sit up, and felt a splitting pain in his head as he did so. Mavon rushed to his side, and pushed him back to a prone position.

"Stay down, stay down!" she insisted forcefully. "No sense, these officers," she said to herself, hurrying off to inject him with some anti-nausea medication. She was back in a flash, hypospray in hand. She injected him with the medication, and his head suddenly stopped swimming.

"What the hell-?" he began. Then the memory of what had happened the previous night sunk in. "Lara," he groaned.

"She's in the brig," Mavon reported. "No need to worry about that anymore, thanks to Ashley," she said.

"Ashley?" Evan asked.

"She's the one who beamed in the stun grenade," Mavon explained. "She found out what was going on shortly before you would have been dead."

"Remind me to thank her," Evan said, sitting up and rubbing his head, squinting as if doing so would erase the pain he felt.

"I will," Mavon said. "By the way, Brexton's itching to interrogate Lara. I suggested that he wait until you came around."

"Good call," Evan said. "She already told me everything I need to know. I'll tell Brexton, and we'll keep her in the brig until the mission's over. She'll be facing charges of treason."

Mavon grimaced. "The punishment is severe," she said.

"Life imprisonment, under circumstances like this," Evan said, no regret in his voice. "She earned it."  
Mavon felt as if she should have disagreed with this statement, but, somehow, she didn't.

"I've got to get to the bridge," Evan said, rising to his feet.

His comm. badge chirped. "Captain Grant to stellar cartography," came Daniel's voice.

"I'm on my way," Grant said, and closed the channel.

Mavon looked mortified. "I didn't even tell him you were conscious!" she exclaimed.

Not quite hearing Mavon, Grant said "Or, maybe, stellar cartography." He left sickbay, and walked slowly down the corridor. Suddenly he smiled, remembering the rest of the night's events. The kisses.

Sooner than he expected, he found himself in stellar cartography, where Daniel was poring over scans of the object that the Sovereign had almost avoided. The science officer hastily explained what had happened on the bridge, and moved on to the scans.

"After we collided with it," Daniel said, "I scanned it for all I was worth. Unless it came off of some ship, it really doesn't belong here."

"And?" Grant asked, knowing there was more.

"And, it's made out of the same alloy as the Ardenian ships we've encountered," Daniel said. "Mostly, anyway."

"Mostly?"

"Well, it's a device of some kind," Daniel said. "Or, rather, it used to be," he corrected himself.

"Do tell," Grant said.

"The device is crammed with coils of one sort or another," Daniel said, indicating them on the lab's screen. "A blast analysis of it revealed that it was exposed to temperatures in excess of ten-thousand degrees centigrade."

"Much too hot for the nebula to have caused," Grant surmised.

"Indeed," Daniel agreed. "I'd say this thing was here when the star went supernova,"

"Do you have any idea what purpose it had?" Grant asked.

"All the internal coils suggest it was one of three things," Daniel said. "A shield generator, a sensor device, or a modulator of some kind. I'd say that its complexity rules out the first two of those possibilities."

"So what was it modulating?" Grant asked.

Daniel shrugged. "I'm not sure. But," he said, anticipating Grant's disappointed look, "I also found this." He pointed again at the screen, where the results of a different scan were displayed. It was some sort of residual energy signature, an eerily beautiful collection of arcs and beams.

"A quantum signature," Grant said, immediately recognizing it. He turned to Daniel with a look of surprise on his face. "Do you think this might have anything to do with the Ardenian's power generation techniques?" Evan had discussed Starfleet's theories on the operation of the Ardenian vessels with the captains in the mess hall last night.

"A distinct possibility," Daniel said, nodding. "However, if so, it was on a grand scale. This device alone is the size of an entire Ardenian battleship."

Grant turned his head back to look at the scan. "More questions," he muttered, and then left stellar cartography.

On his way to the bridge, he bumped into Ashley, who was following the opposite route.

"Evan!" she said, surprised. "You're up! Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," he said, looking gratefully at her. "I have a headache, but if it weren't for you, I wouldn't have a head to ache."

Ashley smiled at him, still looking relieved to see him up and about, and they hugged.

"I scratched your ship again," Ashley said, looking playfully apprehensive of his reaction. Evan rolled his eyes.

"Nothing the drydock can't handle," he said, and kissed her.

Moments later, they were at their stations on the bridge, looking as if nothing had happened.

"Is our communication link with the Defiant and Resolute stable?" Grant asked.

"Yes, sir," Hanson said. "They are maintaining formation about one kilometer on either side of us, sir."

"I think it's time we took a peek outside our hideaway," Grant said. "Signal the Defiant and Resolute to accompany us to the edge of the nebula."

"I think Harrison and Finnardy would appreciate being back on their own bridges, sir," Ashley said.

Grant nodded, thinking the same thing. "We'll beam them back as soon as we're clear," he said.

"Defiant and Resolute have acknowledged, sir," Hanson reported. "They're standing by."

"Take us out, Mr. Hanson," Grant ordered.

"Aye, sir," he replied. "Engaging impulse engines. Four minutes until we clear the nebula."

"Understood."

Four minutes later, the three Federation ships emerged from the nebula, heading out just far enough to scan the area.

"Mr. Hader?" Grant asked.

"One moment sir, still scanning," he said. Then, "All clear. I'm not reading any Ardenian ships."

"Good," Grant said. "Have we beamed the captains aboard yet?"

"Energizing now," Brexton reported.

Grant waited a minute or two.

"The Defiant is signaling, sir," Hanson reported. "She's ready to go."

"Give her the affirmative," Evan said.

"Done," Hanson said a moment later. "She's engaging cloak and going to warp."

"What now?" Brexton asked.

"We maintain position, and wait for Mr. Harrison's report," Grant said.

"More waiting!" Brexton said, pretending to sound happy.

Grant and Ashley smirked in unison.

Harrison stood on the bridge of the Defiant, watching the stars fly by. "ETA to Ardenia?" he asked.

"Nine, maybe ten hours, sir," Cochrane said.

Harrison groaned. "Ten hours is a long time on a ship this small," he thought.

"I'll be back," Harrison said, standing up. "I'm going to go get a book."

William eyed him sympathetically as the captain rose to leave.

"The bridge will still be here when you return, sir," he said. "I promise."

"Why do I doubt you?" Harrison asked pessimistically from the turbolift as the doors closed.

"No clue," Ford muttered to himself, thinking of the inches of ablative armor between himself and space.

Evan stared over the small table in his quarters at Ashley. He'd invited her over to dinner that night, seeing as he had no pressing tasks to attend to. She'd accepted, and, well, here they were.

The room was dimly lit, the ambient lights flickering exaggeratedly as the computer attempted to convey the impression of candlelight. It was not succeeding in the least, Grant noticed, but it was simply one of the small things that the Sovereign could not duplicate with perfection. Besides, the quality of the lighting was one of the farthest things from his mind as he looked into Ashley's sparkling blue eyes.

"So," he asked, conversationally, "how did such a young woman rise so fast to such a prestigious post?"

Ashley laughed and looked down for a minute, as if she was used to being asked this question.

"I don't really know," she told him. "Starfleet clearly saw something in my command ability, or I wouldn't be here. But how they made that assessment I don't know."

"Your profile in the database says you received several commendations for 'original thinking' and the like," Grant said, raising his eyebrows and hoping to prod an interesting story out her.

She laughed again. "I've been known to come up with unorthodox solutions to problems," she said. "I'm not sure that having too many of those commendations means something good. Admiral Kirk got one for cheating on the Kobayashi Maru."

"You give yourself far too little credit for your accomplishments," Grant said pleasantly. "Even from your brief service under my command I can see some of the things that made you rise so far so quickly."

"Such as?" Ashley said whimsically, wondering if he was merely trying to please her.

"Such as," Evan said with a dramatic pause, "restraint, dedication, extreme courage, and responsibility."

Ashley smiled again. She could tell from the way he was speaking that he meant it.

"What about you?" she asked him. "It's not often that one commands a ship like this at the age of thirty-five. Or any ship, for that matter."

"Well, I'd almost say that it's compensation for all that Starfleet's put me through during my service. I assumed command of this ship three years ago, and by that time I'd already served in the Federation marines, been first officer aboard another ship for almost five years, been captured and interrogated by the Dominion during the war, and had seen a lot of hard action."

Ashley stared at him. "You were captured during the war?" she said, amazed that the vital, strong, smiling man in front of her had endured a Dominion torture camp.

"Yes," Grant said, a suddenly faraway look in his eyes. "I organized the breakout. We killed the guards, stole an orbiting bugship, and warped all the way back to Federation space."

"You make it sound easy," Ashley said. "It's not."

"No," Grant said. "It wasn't. But I was never affected by the camp in the same way as other men that I've served with."

That statement cut deeply into Ashley's emotions.

"I've never faced something like that," she said. "But I've met men who had nothing left of themselves after going through the camps. I remember meeting this one lieutenant, who was emotionally destroyed. He was practically vegetative. And he had every reason to go on, a wife and three children, a spotless career and duty record—" she shook her head, interrupting herself. "I couldn't imagine what it was like. What could do that to someone."

Evan eyes glazed over suddenly. He sent her a weak smile, then said "I hope you never find out. It's not something I like to remember."

Ashley just looked at him, wondering if there was more that he would say. He looked back, and saw the unasked question in her eyes. He couldn't bring himself to answer it.

Shaking his head, he changed the subject.

"How are you holding up under all this pressure?" he asked.

"I'm okay," she said in a non-aggrieved sort of way. Too non-aggrieved, Evan thought to himself.

"I remember you said you wanted to do some exploring," Evan said, remembering a conversation they'd had in a turbolift some time ago. "Not exactly what you had in mind, is it?"

"Well, one doesn't always get what one wants," she said.

"Too true," Evan said, watching her closely. "But personally, I think I might draw the line at a calibrator through my stomach."

She smiled again, detecting yet another veiled compliment.

"Don't give me that modest look!" Evan exclaimed. "That was no small task. After the Ardenian impaled you, you went on to kill him, complete your mission, and then to top it all off, you survived. That's the kind of thing that gets one a promotion."

"You think I'll make captain?" she asked.

Evan chuckled. "There's no question you'll make captain. The question is when, and how, and will you be ready? The service needs more captains like you, with a young mind and a healthy disrespect for 'the book'. I'm going to give you a piece of advice. You want to explore? Then stay away from this," he said, gesturing vaguely around the room.

"Stay away from what?" Ashley asked, laughing.

"This!" Evan said, indicating the room once more. "A ship like this! Oh sure, the Sovereign's big and beautiful, and filled to the breaking point with advanced sensors and scientific equipment, but she's a warship. Loaded with weapons, armor, quantum torpedoes, and power. She could be an explorer, but as long as the Federation needs military power, and it always will, ships like this and the Enterprise will always be kept close to home, playing a role of protection. You want a ship that's made for science. Something like the Devore, only bigger. Something that commands respect, but isn't sent into every major military engagement of the decade.

"An Akira?" she suggested.

"Are you kidding?" Grant asked. "Twenty-two torpedo launchers. Those things are guns with engines. Maybe a refit Excelsior, Nebula, or Intrepid."

"I like that idea," Ashley said, "An Intrepid."

Grant nodded. "I thought you might. And believe it or not, it's only a matter of time," he said, taking a sip of champagne.

"I'm reassured to hear you say that," Ashley said. Grant rose from the table, picked up some of the nearby empty dishes, and carried them over to the replicator. "Recycle," he commanded, and the dishes obediently disappeared.

He walked back to the table, and picked up the ones near Ashley, and repeated the process as she stood up.

"I have high hopes for you," Evan said, as he looked into Ashley's eyes. They were so beautiful, he thought, trying to fathom their depths. Almost impossibly so.

"I have high hopes for us," Ashley corrected him. Grant smiled.

"As do I, my dear, as do I," he said, accepting her correction.

Suddenly the magnitude of the moment and what they were saying washed over them, and swept them away.

Ashley stepped up to him, and put her arms around his neck, fastening her lips to his in a passionate kiss. Grant, in precisely the right mood, encircled her waist with his hands, and held her close, letting her warmth flow through him, feeling her hair, her cheek as it nuzzled his, and breathed deeply. She followed suit, and one kiss became another, and another, until no end was any longer in sight. What happened in that room for the next hour or so was anyone's guess…

End of part IIIPart IV

David was sitting in his comfortable reclining chair, one of the few luxuries afforded to him by his small vessel. He was reading a thick book, much as he had been doing for the past five hours. Realizing that he was becoming mentally fatigued, he put the book aside and got to his feet. He sipped a glass of water, and walked over to his bed, where he went to lie down. Barely had he done so when his comm. badge chirped. He sighed and tapped it in response.

"Captain to the bridge," came Ford's voice. "We are approaching the Ardenian solar system."

All traces of fatigue in David's expression instantly vanished, replaced by an expression of urgency and alertness.

"I'm on my way," he said, and swung himself out of bed.

In a moment he was on the bridge, and he took stock of the situation immediately. "Report," he ordered.

"We just dropped to impulse and are on approach into the solar system," Ford reported. "There is currently no evidence that the Ardenians have detected us, but there is considerable activity within the system."

"What sort of activity?" David asked, eyeing the viewscreen, which, lacking a target, displayed nothing in particular.

"Several military ships orbiting various planets, or cruising along various patrol routes, about fifteen in total, all identical or very similar in design to the battleships that we've already encountered. Also, there appears to be a very large artificial construct near the star," Ford reported.

"We're getting readings so bizarre, I don't even know what to think," Sarah reported from the science console.

"We'll have to check it out," Harrison said. "Get ready to take us closer, Cochrane. In the meantime, Sarah, scan this system for all you're worth. I want every last bit of data we can possibly have. Any of it may prove to be precious. "

"Aye, sir," she agreed, and began scanning. With an area so vast involved, including several inhabited worlds and dozens of military, supply, and maintenance craft moving back and forth among them, it would be some time before a detailed scan was complete, and even then, only half their mission would be done.

Admiral Hayes was in his office, taking care of a large quantity of paperwork that had just been deposited onto his desk. He tapped his orders into a computer console, which then broadcasted them over a high security network to wherever they needed to be. It was an effective and efficient system that had gone through many stages, and had been settled upon as the best mix between speed and quality.

He enjoyed this work, carrying out the important business of the Federation, but a part of him still longed to be on the bridge of a starship, sailing through the stars as if he owned them, making life and death decisions and watching them play out before his eyes. Another part of him wondered how Evan and his allies were fairing in that distant part of the quadrant known as Cardassian space. His meandering thought process was interrupted when one of his aides walked in, carrying a datapad in his hand.

"It's a report from the Starfleet corps of engineers, sir," he informed the admiral. "Something about quantum torpedoes."

Admiral Hayes frowned, then remembered his conference with the other admirals two days ago.

"Ah," he said. "I've been waiting for that. Put it on my desk," he went on, gesturing vaguely. "I've got to file one last report, then I can handle it."

"Yes, Admiral," the aide said, and put it carefully on his desk before withdrawing.

Hayes spent a few more minutes tapping in orders, then picked up the datapad.

He opened the report, and saw that it was indeed a copy of a report prepared for him about quantum torpedoes and the Ardenians.

It was not overly technical, he saw with relief, and he began to read it, his eyes darting back and forth quickly as he did. Soon tiring of the small print on the tiny screen, he plugged the datapad into a holographic projector on his desk, and it displayed the text in substantially larger, three-dimensional text, right before his eyes.

The engineers had concluded that it was essentially impossible to modify quantum torpedoes to effectively utilize only one dimension of the numerous quantum realities. The torpedo was already too complex and too unwieldy for a small staff of engineers on a starship to tamper with much, and they had decided that solution impractical. Beginning to be disinterested, Hayes jumped toward the bottom of the document to see if there was anything interesting. As a matter of fact, there was a blueprint for some kind of explosive device. Hayes grinned and started reading from where he had left off.

The engineering team had, once the torpedoes had proved impractical, started working on another solution, as quickly as they could. The one they had hit upon involved an entirely new design, a missile of sorts, which used some of the same principles as a quantum torpedo, but many different ones. Hayes noticed that its explosive yield was considerably lower than that of the torpedo, but then went on to see the beauty of the solution.

The torpedo was capable of summoning quantum particles from any dimension that was desired. It could be modulated to regularly access any one of them. Hayes immediately realized the power of the weapon that had been delivered into his hands. Only one thing remained, and that was to determine what dimension the Ardenian power generators operated through. Once that was discovered, the Sovereign could replicate her own supply of these missiles, and fire them at will, decimating any Ardenian forces that might interfere with her mission.

That piece of information, though, would not be an easy one to obtain, and to do so he would have to rely on his field operatives, who were somewhere within Cardassian space.

He tapped a button on his desk, which brought the aide hurrying back in. "Get this information to the Sovereign as quickly as possible," he said. "Make sure they receive it. Transmit over and over again until you get a confirmation from them."

"Aye, sir," the aide said, and, taking the datapad, rushed off to carry out his new orders.

Evan was in his quarters shaving when his comm. badge chirped. "Captain Grant to the bridge," came Ashley's pleasant voice.

He jogged over to the table where his comm. badge lay, and tapped it. "I'm en route," he said, and attached it to his uniform. He took a cloth and wiped his face, then tossed it to the counter and headed up to the bridge.

When he arrived, he saw Ashley consulting with Hanson at the helm, and walked over to see what had happened.

"We received a partial transmission from Starfleet command about two minutes ago," Ashley informed him. "Sir," she added quickly, almost forgetting.

Hanson eyed the two of them, momentarily curious. Usually the commander was not one to forget formalities.

Evan looked puzzled. "Partial?"

"We received a header and the beginning of a report, but then it was cut off, just stopped. We don't know why, sir," she said.

Evan looked at the stars, and then back at the console, which displayed the limited information they had received. Something from the corps of engineers, he saw.

"I'm going to take a chance," he decided.

"Sir?" Ashley asked, awaiting his orders.

"Transmit to Starfleet, through subspace, that they need to retransmit. The Ardenians might notice, but we can always head back into the nebula if trouble shows up."

Ashley nodded, and Hanson tapped his controls. Evan was heading to the captain's chair when the helm console buzzed.

"Mr. Hanson?" Grant asked.

Hanson turned his chair to face the captain, after exchanging glances with Ashley, who was also still watching his console. He did not look pleased.

"We're being jammed, sir," he said.

Evan's eyes widened almost imperceptibly. "Through subspace?" he asked, his face incredulous. Then something clicked in his mind, and he looked at his first officer.

"Just like the Prometheus," she said.

"Mr. Brexton," Evan ordered hastily. "Go to yellow alert. Mr. Hader, boost power to sensors and see if you can identify the source. Hanson, prepare to warp away from the nebula on my command. We have to get that data from Starfleet."

His crew hastily moved about, carrying out their orders. The shields went up, Hanson plotted a course to somewhere, and Daniel began entering a flurry of commands into his console, trying to pinpoint the coordinates of the jammer. It was going to take a while, Grant knew, and they had been caught with their guard down. He should have expected something like this.

David turned eagerly to face Sarah, who had just finished her sensor sweep of the Ardenians' home system. Normally, his crew would have gone to the conference room to discuss her findings, but the bridge seemed adequate for the time being, and they all gave her their attention for an improvised briefing.

"This system contains ten planets," Sarah began. "Seven of them are inhabited, one is a gas giant, and the other two are too climatically unstable to support life easily. Most of the planets appear to be lightly inhabited, with small, self-contained colonies whose populations never exceed ten million or so. The exception appears to be the fourth planet from sun, which contains almost one billion Ardenians, along with major shipyards, mineral mines, and planetary defenses. It's safe to say that this planet is their home world."

"Only one billion inhabitants?" Ford asked. "That's a small population for a home world."

"I know," Sarah said agreeably. "However, it's more by a factor of ten than any other world in this system, odd as that may be. In any case, their home world is a class M planet, remarkably similar to Earth in many ways, including its ocean-to-land ratio, which is only a few percent different. Orbiting this planet are three Ardenian battleships, whereas only two orbit every other world in the system. There also appear to be surface mounted turrets."

"Do they have planetary shields?" David asked, knowing that if they did, Captain Grant would have to devise a new plan.

"Apparently not," Sarah said, sounding surprised that such a technically advanced race would be lacking in such technology. "I was not able to detect generators of any such size and power."

Ford raised his eyebrows and looked at the captain, who seemed surprised and hopeful. "Maybe we have a chance after all," he said.

Sarah held up a hand, and they returned their attention to her. "I had some difficulty locating a definitely 'critical' installation on the planet's surface, but I think I may have finally found one."

She nodded toward the viewscreen, which promptly displayed a scan of the planet in question. She selected a small area, and zoomed in on it. A large complex was visible, filled with large, forbidding buildings, transmitters, and power generators.

"I monitored their transmissions for some time," Sarah continued, "And while I was unable to decipher any of them, I could track their destinations, and they all appeared to be directed to either the other planets, or orbiting military ships which promptly changed their behavior afterward. I believe it to be their central command complex, an ideal target for our little plan," she said.

"Indeed," David said, staring at the viewscreen as if it provided him with some deep insight into the universe. "Perhaps we could," he said thoughtfully. "Perhaps we could. We'll need to send this information to Grant as soon as possible," he concluded.

Sarah spoke a word of caution. "I wouldn't transmit from here. They'd be pretty likely to detect a subspace signal in their own system. I suggest we warp out and get well clear before we attempt to establish communications with the Sovereign."

"Agreed," David said. "Cochrane, let's get out of here."

The helmsman plotted a course and engaged the Defiant's warp engines as gently as possible, to avoid attracting attention.

"I've got it, sir," Daniel reported. "A vessel about three light years from our current position, producing a subspace jamming field."

"Are there any other ships?" Grant asked.

"Negative," Daniel replied. "But I can't say that with one-hundred percent certainty, there's too much subspace interference."

"Very well," Grant said. "Set a course for it, and inform the Resolute. We need to destroy, or at least disable, that ship."

Ashley looked as if she had something to say, and Grant was not about to stop her.

"Yes, Commander?" he asked.

"Sir, we could simply leave the area being affected by the jamming field, rather than destroy the ship. It can't be jamming a very large area," she said, and looked to Daniel for confirmation.

He looked at his panel, then said "No, no, it looks like we're on the outside of its radius too. We'd only have to warp a light year in the other direction, sir," he went on.

"And if they follow us?" Grant asked. His officers had no answer for that.

"Exactly. Set a course for the ship," he ordered.

"Course plotted, sir," Hanson said.

"Let's go," Grant said, and the Sovereign changed course, exiting the nebula on impulse power, then jumped to warp as she cleared it.

"Any more ships on sensors?" Ashley asked Daniel cautiously.

"Still negative, Commander, but again, I can't be sure until we're within less than a light year, and by then it might be too late."

"Patience, my good officers, patience," Grant said. "We'll find out soon enough." He drummed his fingers thoughtfully against the arm of his chair. "Go to red alert," he ordered. Klaxons sounded, and the light immediately dimmed.

"We are approaching the jamming ship," Daniel reported. "No other vessels present."

"On screen," Grant ordered. An image of space immediately appeared on screen, a small vessel visible. It had a very large and ugly protrusion from its top, and it was clear that it was an electronics warfare vessel of some kind.

"Lock phasers," Evan said. "Disable it."

"Phasers locked," Brexton responded. "Targeting ECM systems and weapons."

"Let's see if we can get through this ship's defenses without using quantums," Grant said.

"Aye, sir," Brexton said, and opened fire. Phasers lanced out from the Sovereign, slicing across the jamming ship's delicate electronics and causing crippling system overloads wherever possible. The damage, however, was far less severe than Brexton had hoped for.

"Minimal damage to the enemy ship," Brexton said, shaking his head. "Phaser accuracy is way, way, down because of the jamming field."

"Arm photon torpedoes," Grant said. "Fire."

A salvo of photon torpedoes exited the Sovereign's main torpedo launcher, and made their way rapidly toward the jamming ship, this time to vicious effect. The enemy ship rocked, and sparks of energy ran over its hull.

"His hull integrity is down to 50%," Brexton reported. "Those photons did the trick." He looked at the captain, satisfied with his work.

The captain, however, looked anything but satisfied. "This is far, far, too easy," Grant said. "No resistance, no other ships, no nothing. Mr. Hanson, is the comm. clear?"

"Yes, sir," he reported. "We're receiving simultaneous transmissions from Starfleet Command and the Defiant."

Grant raised his eyebrows, exchanged glances with Ashley, and in sudden alarm gave further orders.

"Order the Resolute out of here now! Send them back to the nebula."

Hanson quickly obeyed the captain's orders, curious as to his sudden alarm.

"Resolute has acknowledged, sir. They're en route."

"Turn us about, Mr. Hanson," Evan said. "Get us out of here!"

The Sovereign began to execute a tight one-hundred-and-eighty degree turn to port, preparing to retrace its route.

"Captain!" Brexton exclaimed in shock from tactical. "Over forty Ardenian battleships are decloaking, directly ahead!"

Grant stared in awe as a huge fleet decloaked directly in front of the Sovereign, blocking their path.

Hanson hit the controls frantically, but his console merely beeped.

"Warp engines not responding, sir!" he said.

"They've created some kind of subspace disturbance," Daniel said. "It's interfering with our warp field."

"Captain, the Ardenians are powering weapons!" Brexton said. "Should I engage?"

"Negative!" Grant ordered hastily, finally coming to a decision.

"Signal the Ardenians our surrender," he said, letting out a deep breath. "Stand down red alert." Evan was outmaneuvered, and he knew it.

"Sir?" Daniel said, looking at him incredulously.

"DO IT!" Grant ordered angrily. "While we still have the chance!"

"The Ardenians have acknowledged our surrender," Hanson said, still looking shocked. "They say we should hold position and prepare to be boarded."

"All right everyone," Grant said, once again business-like. "We're not finished yet. Hanson, what were those two transmissions about?"

"One contains weapons blueprints for a new weapon from Starfleet command," Hanson said. "The other is the report from the Defiant."

Grant was walking toward Daniel as this was said, and he tapped a small button on the wall. A tray slid out, giving him access to two tricorders. He picked one up, and tossed it to Hanson. "Download them into here, and encrypt them inside the main computer."

Hanson obeyed, his tricorder flashing and beeping as it downloaded the transmissions into its memory banks. Hanson gave it back to the captain, who tossed it to Brexton.

"Hide it," Grant ordered. "Somewhere they won't look."

"Aye, sir," Brexton said, then hurriedly left the bridge.

"What's keeping them?" Ashley asked. Daniel nodded toward the viewscreen. A virtual armada of small shuttlecraft was heading toward them, no doubt carrying Ardenian soldiers.

"Why not simply beam aboard?" she asked.

"The field they are using to jam our warp engines appears to interfere with transporters as well, ma'am," Daniel reported, studying the science console.

"Good thing, too," Grant said. "We have some time to plan, at least. Mr. Hanson, do we still have communications?"

"Yes, sir, but I doubt they'd approve of our using them," Hanson replied.

"Screw them," Grant said. "Send out a subspace burst informing the Resolute, the Defiant, and Starfleet, of our predicament. Send orders not to act without either word from us, or reinforcements."

"Aye, sir," Hanson said, his eyes wide at the thought of the Ardenians' unhappy response. He began hurriedly drafting the message. The Ardenian boarding ships drew closer, and closer. Hanson finished the message barely as the first ship was attaching itself to one of the Sovereign's many airlocks.

"Transmitting," he said, tapping a control.

"Bombs away," Grant whispered under his breath. He watched the Ardenian warships for their response. Nothing happened. He let out a deep breath. Visible relief showed on the faces of his crew.

Evan grimaced as a volley of blue disruptor fire was fired by one of the Ardenian ships, straight at the undefended Sovereign.

"Oh, _not good!_" Ashley thought out loud, bracing herself against her chair."

The disruptor fire hit the Sovereign, and unleashed hell. The Sovereign's shields were down, and the bolts had hit an unarmored location on the hull, carving deep, glowing holes in the ship.

The bridge rocked crazily, lights flickering on and off, damage reports coming in from several decks.

No more weapons fire was forthcoming, however, and the proper damage control measures were still taken, forcefields put into place, and crewmen evacuated.

"They just don't want us doing that again," Daniel commented.

The turbolift doors slid open, and numerous Ardenian guards poured forth, brandishing their weapons.

"Who sent that transmission?" the leader asked. Hanson was about to speak when Evan rose to his feet.

"I did," Grant said.

"You are the captain?" the Ardenian asked.

"I am," Grant said, looking the alien right in the face, unblinking.

"Nice try," Ashley said, rising to her feet. "Commander," she said to Grant. "I will not allow you face the consequences of actions you did not order," she said. Grant shot her a look of pure disbelief, then tried to restrain it as he realized what she was attempting to do.

Ashley wanted to make sure he was able to lead the crew, decide on the next course of action, whatever the Ardenians might have in store for the 'commanding' officer.

Unfortunately, her plan could not have gone more wrong.

"Take them both," the leader ordered, gesturing at two of his guards. "Have them restrained aboard my vessel. I will deal with them later."

As they were hustled into the turbolift, Grant shot an annoyed look at his first officer.

"Great idea, Captain," he whispered under his breath, his hands restrained behind him by the Ardenian equivalent of handcuffs.

Ashley winced, aware of the mistake she had made.

"Sorry, sir," she said softly. "At least you won't be alone."

Grant rolled his eyes, and resigned himself to the control of the Ardenians. For the time being…

"Well, well, well," David said, staring at the comm. panel on his bridge. "This just gets better and better, doesn't it? Grant and his ship are captured, and he's tied my hands."

"Sir," William said, restrainingly. "I'm sure he has a plan—"

"SO AM I!" David yelled. "What I'm not sure of is what the hell it is, or how he intends to carry it out from his cozy little jail cell!"

"The good news," Sarah said, attempting to distract him, "is that transmission from Starfleet Command. Plans for a modulating quantum missile. All we need is info on the Ardenian's reactors now."  
"And how do you propose we get it?" David asked. "Something tells me they don't want us to know."

"We'll need to go undercover," William said. "It's time for an away mission."

David nodded slowly at him. "Go to the armory," he said. "Take whatever you need."

"Aye, sir," William said. "Mr. Lowell," he said, indicating the tactical officer, "You're with me." They left the bridge together, heading for the armory. Finally it was time for action.

Daniel awoke painfully from unconsciousness in his quarters. The Ardenian had shot everyone, figuring they would be easier to handle if unconscious. That was true enough, he knew, as he approached the doors to his quarters only to find them welded shut.

"Nice," he said out loud. "No hot-wiring those."

He opened the equipment locker in his room and was totally unsurprised to find it empty. He was more surprised to discover that the datapad he normally kept under his bed for just this reason had been taken, and some other more hidden pieces of technology had also been stripped. He thought of the Ardenians going through this process in every single room onboard the ship, and his eyes widened at the magnitude of the task that had been completed while he lay unconscious, on his floor.

That brought to mind another unsettling thought. How long had he been there? How much could have happened?

"Computer," he asked. "What is the date and time?"

It replied promptly, "You are not authorized to access that information."

"Jesus," Daniel said. "The computer won't even give me the time of day anymore. These guys are good."

He paced his room for a time, thinking about what to do next. He'd have to find some way to communicate with the others, that much was obvious. He looked around, finding no obvious means. His eyes darted all over the room, looking for some piece of technology. If only he had something, he could make do!

His eyes came to rest on the door control panel. They had not been disabled, although they were clearly useless for operating the door. All the door controls were hooked up to the main computer though, which provided some kind of link between all the crew. All he had to do was figure out how to use it.

He tapped a few buttons and produced no evident response. He sighed heavily, and with a look of resignation focused his efforts totally on the task at hand. This was not going to be easy.

Grant awoke from unconsciousness in a very different environment. He found that he was strapped to some sort of platform, which could be moved and rotated at will. It was cold and uncomfortable, made out of some super-strong metal alloy, and seemed precisely in character with the rest of the room. And the room, he could see, was no house of pleasure. Sharp, deadly looking instruments were everywhere inside, hanging from the ceiling, placed on racks and walls, and strange mechanical devices were littered everywhere.

As he gazed out across the dimly lit, metallic chamber, he noticed that his was not the only platform. The entire perimeter of the room contained at least a dozen, and Ashley was in one off to his left side. She did not appear to be conscious yet.

Unpleasant memories stirred in his mind, of Dominion torture and Sumari brutality, and he wondered what the Ardenians had in store for him. Of one thing he was certain: He did not want to find out.

Right on cue, the pair of armored doors that sealed the room slid open, and a burly looking Ardenian strode in. Two companions, clearly inferior in rank, followed right behind him.

Walking right up to Evan and putting his face close to the captain's, he said menacingly: "You are the captain, not her. Why did she lie to us?"

Evan said nothing, staring right back into the Ardenians eyes. He tested the restraints, carefully, finding them to be more than adequate to the task of holding him in place.

The Ardenian looked at him, a strange expression of what had to be anger forming on his face. Suddenly, he made a fist with his four-fingered left hand, and swung it directly into Evan's face.

The Ardenian was incredibly strong, and Evan's muscles jerked involuntarily as the blow hit him, his head knocked to one side. He winced, feeling a trickle of blood flow down his cheek. He turned his head back to face his tormentor.

"She was trying to protect me," he said reluctantly. "She hoped you would take her and not me."

The Ardenian smirked. "We are not that foolish, my Starfleet friend. It seemed unlikely that you would be sitting in the center chair, and a mere communications officer."

Evan merely raised one eyebrow and stared back at him.

"What are you doing here?" the Ardenian asked in mock fury, trying to intimidate Grant with his anger. Evan thought quickly. He could not reveal the whereabouts of the Defiant or Resolute, at any cost, and he had to come up with a plausible explanation for his presence that had nothing to do with the truth.

He did not think quickly enough. Another fist shot out from the Ardenian and caught him full in the jaw. Evan's reaction was the same as before, though more anger was evident in his eyes.

"We're here trying to make contact with you," Evan said, sticking to a partial truth. "I was sent to investigate why the Prometheus rammed our starbase."

The Ardenian backed away momentarily, seeming to consider the plausibility of the explanation. He looked away, then back at Grant, suspiciously admitting the likely truth of what Grant said.

"Indeed," the Ardenian said. "And the two ships that accompanied you, where are they now?"

"Good," Grant thought to himself. "They haven't found either of them."

"I don't know," he said. It was truly fortunate for him that this was the truth. He had simply told Hanson to order the Resolute 'out of here' and had specified nothing. As for the Defiant, well, it could be anywhere by now.

"Liar!" the Ardenian snarled, and hit him again, this time with fury.

Evan gasped as his body tried to absorb the shock of the blow. The Ardenian seemed to drift in and out of focus as Evan's brain reeled to deal with the pain flowing through his face. It lasted a long time, much longer than the other two blows, and he moaned as the pain finally began to dull.

Grant somehow composed himself, and looked the Ardenian right in the face again. "I told you I don't know, and that's the truth!" he said.

"Liar!" the enraged Ardenian said again, and once more punched Evan in the head.

This blow came near to knocking Evan out, and he gritted his teeth to keep from crying out. As it was, a grunt escaped his lips.

"I DON'T KNOW!" he yelled.

The Ardenian looked at him again, this time his expression revealing the fact that he realized the captain might be telling the truth.

He nodded to one of the guards behind him, who stepped forward, holding a strange blunt instrument. He held it close to Grant, who eyed it apprehensively, expecting nothing good. It beeped unobtrusively, and the Ardenian withdrew it, nodding to his commanding officer.

The lead Ardenian looked extremely annoyed at this, then asked Grant, "And the female, will she be anymore forthcoming?"

"Of course not," Grant hurried to say. "She knows nothing that I do not also know."

The second Ardenian once more stepped forth, and ran the instrument over Grant. It beeped in the same fashion.

"He's telling the truth," the guard said.

"Who are you?" Grant asked. "And why did you attack us?"

The Ardenian simply smirked at him. "Perhaps it's time you met the Emperor," he said thoughtfully. "In the meantime," he went on, pulling his fist back for another blow, "get some sleep," he said, punching Evan.

The blow did not have the desired effect. Evan's body jerked once more, but he was not knocked out, as the Ardenian had planned.

With a look of frustration, the Ardenian pulled something out of his belt and shot the captain, who immediately went limp. The Ardenians strode out of the room as angrily as they had come, leaving behind nothing but pain, and having gained nothing but useless information.

Daniel cursed as a shower of sparks exploded across his face, his finger stinging painfully as he received another plasma shock, the third in as many minutes. He was manipulating the exposed circuitry of the door panel, which he had pried open with a knife left over from his last dinner.

He had made some progress in his efforts. Daniel was now able to make the door of the room next to him beep, whenever he pressed two wires together. At least, he thought it did. Without being in the next room, there was really no way to tell. Hopefully, however, there was someone in that next room, maybe someone he could talk to. "Just a little more time," he thought, and continued working on the door panel.

Brexton sat awaiting inspiration. He was in his quarters, having been captured and taken, by some freak coincidence, to his own home, and sealed inside while the Ardenian's prepared to do god only knew what with the Sovereign. He wondered if they would use the Sovereign to launch another attack on the Federation. He hoped desperately that this was not the case, but could come up with few better ideas, at least from the Ardenian's point of view.

On the bright side, he'd at least managed to hide the tricorder with the blueprints and the recent transmission from the Defiant. He'd ripped up a floor panel in a maintenance room of a jeffries tube, fifteen-A, and slid the tricorder inside before replacing the panel. It was safe to say that no one who did not already know where it was would be able to find it. Unfortunately, the fact that he'd been captured soon after leaving the Jeffries tubes had meant that he was the only person on board who knew where it was. That meant that he had to stay alive.

He had no plans to the contrary, but it meant he should probably not be the instigator of an escape attempt, lest it fail. He was beginning to lose himself in dire thoughts, and picked up a nearby book to distract himself with.

It was at this time that the door entry chime beeped. Normally, this was a frequent occurrence in his quarters, with some young ensign coming to report some small security breach aboard the vessel. Now, however, it was extremely irregular. The doors to his quarters were welded shut. All of the crew were locked away, by a minimum of four hundred Ardenian soldiers. He'd seen at least that many when he was taken to his quarters, and there were probably more. And it couldn't be the Ardenians ringing his door chime, since they would know that such an act was pointless. So, it was with no small puzzlement that Brexton stared at the door panel.

The door chime beeped again, holding its note for longer than it had last time. It beeped again, quickly this time. It then repeated this pattern. Something was tickling at the back of Brexton's mind, and suddenly he realized that it was a code! What code would someone be using to communicate through the door chimes? The most obvious choice was Morse code.

Only one letter, thus far, had been indicated, with the pattern '-.-.' A 'C' in Morse code.

The door chime began to beep again. The next pattern was '.—' an 'A'. The next pattern indicated an 'N' and then a space.

"Can?" Brexton asked himself, puzzled. This was not the end of the message, however. The door chime continued beeping away, and soon the next word was formed. "You."

Then another word, "hear" and finally, "me?"

"Can you hear me?" Brexton said. "I'll be damned."

With an apprehensive look at the door panel, he said to himself, "You won't know for a while."

Soon, however, Daniel began to relay instructions on how to reconfigure the door controls. Unfortunately, it was going to take a long time, especially in Morse code.

Chief engineer Vu'ton stared intently at the replicator in his quarters. A clever idea had come to him while he studied several problems. First on his mind was why the Ardenians had welded the door shut. Surely that was to prevent escape, but it just as surely prevented entry, except by transporter. So how would they feed the prisoners? It was certain that they would not beam meals to each and every member of the crew. The Sovereign's very reactor would be overloaded. So he'd attempted to operate the replicator in his quarters. Food worked. He'd tried a phaser next, and the computer had denied him access.

The Vulcan, however, did not give up easily. He'd next begun to enact his clever idea. He ordered the replicator to produce a simple energy capacitor, one of the basic components of a Starfleet energy weapon. It had.

Vu'ton allowed himself a bit of a smile, the most that any Vulcan would ever allow himself, and began to replicate the rest of the components he would need to construct a rudimentary weapon.

Evan groaned and rolled onto his back, blinking his eyes quickly as he did so. He was unable to see, the whole area he was in seemed black. His face was incredibly sore, and as he touched it with one hand, he winced at the minor pressure he had exerted against it. As he blinked he began to be able to discern vague shapes, and he looked around, trying to determine where he was. As he did so, he felt a gentle touch on his jaw, and blinked again, to see a vague form over him.

"Evan, are you all right?" came Ashley's voice. "Have you come around?"

Evan managed a groan in response, then gasped out, "yes."

He was now beginning to be able to make out colors and shapes, and he found that he was indeed in a very dark room, and that Ashley was crouched over him, looking down at him with concern.

"You don't look so good," Ashley said softly. "Whatever you do, don't try to stand up."

He felt another gentle touch, which this time felt damp. Evan looked and found that Ashley was using a damp cloth to cleanse the cuts on his face. He was about to ask where the cloth came from, but decided he really didn't care.

It stung, and he winced, but remained motionless, letting her minister to his injuries.

"Where are we?" he gasped out.

"They took us to a cell after they were finished with you," she said. "Locked us both in here. I don't know any more than that."

Ashley withdrew the damp, now bloodied cloth, laying it on the floor somewhere out of sight. She resumed her former position, and kissed him gently, taking care to avoid his bruises. "You'd better get some rest," she said tenderly, laying his head gently down onto the hard metal when the kiss had ended.

He was in no mood to argue, and barely had a minute passed when he fell asleep. Ashley draped herself across him like a blanket, and fell asleep as well.

The Defiant's first officer, William Ford, swirled into existence onboard an Ardenian outpost, all the Defiant's security personnel close behind him. They were all dressed in Starfleet commando gear, and they were all armed to the teeth.

Shortly had this event been realized when several Ardenians burst through the door, only to be easily neutralized by an intense volley of phaser fire from the team.

Ford took cover behind a nearby console, just in case more Ardenians came, and drew his tricorder, scanning for the quantum reactor of the outpost. He located it, quickly memorized the turns he would have to take to get there, put away his tricorder, and once more brandished his phaser rifle. He fired at another Ardenian who came through the door, then grimaced as alarms went off all over the outpost. Their presence was no longer a secret.

He nodded to his team to advance, and they burst out of the room into a corridor, members of the team facing both ways, firing rapidly into any Ardenians who dared to show their faces. The first return fire was heard as the team rounded a bend, and disruptor beams came at them, missing for the time being.

He nodded to the field tech operative, indicating that he could activate some of his equipment. The man grinned, then pressed a few buttons on a metallic box he was carrying. It suddenly sprouted legs. He tossed it to the ground, and a projector of some kind unfolded from its top. Suddenly a glow of energy behind the team indicated the device had raised its forcefield, and the next volley of disruptor fire impacted on it harmlessly. The rear members of the team watched the Ardenians cautiously, and when the forcefield seemed to hold, they continued.

The device walked behind them, keeping pace only by moving its small legs at a very comical rate. It was, however, keeping pace.

The field tech activated the second of his two devices, and soon another 'forcefield crab' as the prototypes had come to be known, was guarding the front of the team's movement as well.

The team ignored the hapless looking Ardenians, only facing danger when they had to turn ninety degrees into a new corridor while the forcefield crabs rotated into position, once more providing protection.

In this bizarre fashion, the team made it's way toward the small quantum reactor of the base, immune to the assaults of the Ardenians. Such efficiency was a requisite of the operation. Since the Defiant had a very limited supply of personnel, they couldn't afford to lose many people.

Ford watched unhappily as dozens more disruptor bolts slammed into the rear guard, making the forcefield light up with energy deflections. These walking generators were effective, but not invincible. Their small size limited the power of the forcefields, and the technician warned Ford that the rear one would not last for much longer.

Ford glanced at his tricorder, and saw that they were almost to the reactor. Perhaps one minute of travel time lay between them and it.

He looked back at the forcefield, which was already beginning to buckle under the assault of the Ardenians' disruptors. He ran to the back of the team, backpedaling slowly to keep up with the rear crab, and tapped a button on it, which turned it off for precisely five seconds, then back on. This feature had been designed for a very specific purpose, and Ford was about to use it.

He yanked a grenade from his belt, armed it, and tossed it out toward the huge crowd of Ardenians that had accumulated behind them. The forcefield soon flickered back to life, and the lead Ardenian stared in horror at the small object that had come to rest in front of him. He turned to run, just as it blew up, killing several Ardenians, and incapacitating dozens more. Unfortunately, the blast also finished off Ford's forcefield crab. He took aim with his phaser rifle and vaporized what was left of it.

"Wouldn't want the enemy getting its hands on that technology," Ford commented to a nearby security officer. No more Ardenians came from the rear, and the attack from the front had always been light. Soon the team arrived at an armored door, which gave way to a volley of phaser fire.

Inside was a large, glowing, quantum reactor. Ford grinned with satisfaction. They'd made it. He gestured to the field tech to pick up the intact forcefield crab, and set up the remaining specialized equipment. The room they were now in was perfectly cylindrical, with three doors placed at equal intervals about the centrally placed reactor. The technician set up considerably more powerful, stationary, forcefield generators at each of them, after the team welded each of the doors shut. Afterward, he set up a triangle of pattern buffers which would enable them to beam back to the Defiant through the station's raised shields. Sarah pulled a powerful scanner from her equipment kit, and began running it over the reactor. It would take a few moments to discover the frequency at which it operated.

Ford watched anxiously as two of the doors to the room melted into slag, and Ardenians desperately attacked the forcefields that had been so cleverly attached to their own base. They held, at least for the moment.

The eyes of the entire team darted back and forth, from the strange beam emitted by Sarah's scanner, to the forcefields, flickering as they absorbed hit after hit from Ardenian weapons.

After what seemed like forever, at least in terms of helpless-waiting time, her scanner beeped, and Sarah acknowledged that she had the information she needed.

One of the security men moved to tap his comm. badge, but Ford motioned for him to stop, indicating the abundant supply of iridium charges the team had brought along.

The security team spread them out through room, and when they were all in place, Ford tapped his comm. badge.

"Defiant, we could use a lift right about now!" he shouted as the forcefields began to visibly weaken.

"Stand by!" David responded. "A few Ardenian ships have showed up. We're positioning ourselves to avoid their fire when we decloak."

"Don't take too long!" Ford said. "We're running out of time down here!"

David cast a helpless glance at Cochrane, who was desperately fighting the clock, trying to position the Defiant on the opposite side of the outpost from the Ardenian battleships.

After a few seconds, which seemed like an hour, he nodded to the captain.

David swiveled to face tactical. "Drop cloak! Engage transporters!"

The Defiant's limited transporter began beaming the team back, six at a time. Soon, all eighteen were aboard, and the Defiant re-activated her cloak before the station could activate her defenses.

Ford returned to the bridge almost immediately, taking his place breathlessly at David's side, thanking god that his nerve-racking mission was over.

"Get us out of here," David ordered. "Warp three."

"Aye, sir," Cochrane reported, and turned the Defiant about.

"May I do the honors, sir?" Ford asked.

David nodded indulgently.

Ford stepped up to tactical, and pressed a single button, simultaneously activating all the charges they'd left by the reactor.

"Rear view," David ordered, and the viewscreen showed an impressive explosion where the base had once been. The image was cut off, all too soon, in Ford's opinion, by the Defiant's jump to warp.

"Chalk one up for Starfleet," Ford said with satisfaction.

"Casualties?" David asked, on a more sober note.

"We didn't lose one person," Ford said, the satisfaction in his voice undiminished.

David's eyes flashed with pride at a job well done.

"Time to start working on that quantum missile," he said.

"Too bad we don't have those industrial replicators from the Sovereign," Sarah commented from the turbolift, which she had just taken to the bridge. "Would have sped things up a lot. All we can really do is build a few prototypes."

"Oh well," David said, sounding resigned to their bad luck.

"Tell the chief to start cooking," Ford said, referring to the engineer.

Sarah nodded and punched the order into her console.

"Cochrane," David ordered. "Change course to rendezvous with the Resolute."

"Aye, sir," Cochrane said. "Maintaining speed, changing course. ETA six hours."

"Understood," David said, looking tired. "I'm going to turn in for a bit," he said. "Keep me posted."

Ford nodded his understanding.

Evan awoke slowly, finding himself curious as to what the warm, soft, weight that seemed to cover him might be. As a strand of hair lying across his chest caught his eye, he followed it back to a head, then remembered that it was Ashley, and also remembered where he was, and what he was doing there. He let his head fall to the ground, and groaned, putting a hand to it. It felt much better then it had, but it was still painful.

Suddenly, the door slid open to reveal one of the tall, muscular Ardenians, looking down at them as they lay on the floor. A bright stream of light from the outside streamed into the room, illuminating his and Ashley's figures. Ashley stirred and blinked her eyes, awakened by the beam of light across her face. Seeing the Ardenian's silhouette, she hastily got to her feet, and Evan was not far behind.

He did not recognize the form in the doorway, as it was not one of the interrogators he'd dealt with the previous day.

As they walked closer to him, Evan could see the expression on his face, and it was, to his surprise, one of remorse, not anger or hate. The Ardenian seemed regretful. He stared at the both of them, especially at Evan. "It really is you," he whispered under his breath. "So it was true…"

"Greetings," he said to them, in a more businesslike fashion. "I am the Emperor."

Grant looked at him, maintaining his calm and looking distinctly unimpressed. Ashley reserved judgment, for the time being.

"Am I to assume you control the Ardenian government?" Evan asked.

"You are, sir," the Ardenian replied. "I apologize for your treatment at the hands of my men. It was an unfortunate necessity."

"Even when they tried to knock Evan out, then shot him?" Ashley asked, anger in her voice.

The Ardenian seemed to sigh. "No, that was not necessary. Indeed, it was against my orders, and rest assured, the responsible party is being punished."

"How noble of you," Evan mentioned sarcastically.

"Once more, I apologize," the Emperor said. "The men under my command are of a somewhat lesser caliber than they used to be, I'm afraid."

"And just what is that supposed to mean?" Ashley asked.

"The Ardenian Empire is not the civilization it once was," the Emperor said. "I wish I could say otherwise, but I'm afraid I cannot honestly do so."

"Yes, well, this is all very fascinating," Grant said, looking uninterested, "but perhaps you'd care to tell us what is to become of us, and what the hell is going on?"

"Indeed," the Emperor said, looking at the pair of Starfleet officers intently. "It can do no harm, and I suppose I do owe you an explanation. It will take some time to make everything clear, I'm afraid."

"We appear to have plenty of it," Evan said forcefully.

"Come," the Emperor said. "We'll discuss it in more comfortable circumstances."

The Emperor of the Ardenian people turned, showing no fear, despite the fact that two of his worst enemies were directly behind him. Evan, however, had no illusions of his chances of fighting the Emperor and coming out on top. He'd seen his fair share of Ardenian strength.

Sarah sat on a metal cargo crate, holding a particle welder, and assisted an engineering team with the creation of a quantum missile. Without the aid of replicators, it was proving to be rather more difficult than she had anticipated.

Yet another power coupling that they had installed on the device erupted in a shower of sparks. Several technicians covered their faces and hurried away as it overloaded.

"Come on!" Sarah yelled at them. "That's the fifth one in the last hour! How many times have I told you that you have to disable the secondary inverters first? Look," she said, taking another coupling from a supply case, and walking over to the hull of the missile.

She turned several knobs on the hull, and a few lights changed from green to red. She then neatly tucked the power coupling into the slot where the last one had been, and watched with satisfaction as it took hold, precisely as it should have.

"Not hard!" she stated, folding her arms. "Now you do it!" she said, indicating the five remaining power coupling slots. She shook her head as they got back to work.

The cargo bay doors slid open, and David Harrison stepped through them.

He approached her, after watching the technicians for a while, then asked: "How's it going?"

Sarah made a face. "Slowly, sir," she said. "Those engineers are not used to this kind of work."

"Who is?" David asked. "Not the kind of job you're usually asked to do on a ship like this."

Sarah shrugged glumly. "I think it'll be another two hours before we have the first one complete. After this though, making others should be faster. We'll come up with a system."

David nodded. "We're about two hours from the Resolute," he said. "Just thought I'd let you know."

"We'll be ready, sir," she said.

David nodded once more, then left the cargo bay.

The Emperor of the Ardenians stood on an observation deck, Ashley and Evan nearby. There were chairs nearby, provided anyone wanted to use them, but none of the three were sitting yet. The viewports showed a view of streaking stars, informing Evan and Ashley that they were moving at warp speed. To where, they did not yet know.

Now that they were in the 'comfortable' situation that the Emperor had suggested, he began to tell his tale, the one which would explain everything.

"Forty-five million years ago," he began, "The Ardenian Empire was the most powerful force the galaxy had ever seen. Our empire stretched for thousands of light years, all over what your Federation calls the 'Alpha Quadrant'. We possessed space in what is now the Klingon, Romulan, and Cardassian Empires, not to mention a great deal of space that your 'Federation' now controls."

Evan gazed at the Emperor, attempting to ascertain why he had started so far back in time. Forty-five million years ago, the human race had not even existed, and it was hard to imagine what this could have to do with their current plight. Nevertheless, he continued to listen.

"We were the most respected power in the Galaxy. Even the Borg didn't exist then, and most of the sentient races of our time have long since died out, or faded into great weakness. We are the only survivors of this time. It was a time of great peace, and great achievement for our people. Even then, our empire was a few million years old, and our technology was very advanced, more so even than what you see now, aboard this very ship. But we knew that it could not last. We faced the greatest enemy of any civilization, time."

"Everything has a beginning, and an end," Evan interjected.

"Indeed," the Ardenian said, nodding to Evan. "Our people had realized that, and we knew that sooner or later, something would rise to take our place, wipe out our empire, and replace us. Our empire had everything it needed, except for one thing, guaranteed permanence."

Evan was reminded of his own thoughts about the fate of the Federation, days ago, his realization that in order to survive the test of time, the Federation would have to find, or make, something incredibly powerful.

"Realizing there was only one way to combat such a fate, our government began funding efforts to develop time travel technology," the Emperor went on. "What could we possibly have to fear, if we could go back in time and alter events which had already transpired? An attack would be utterly impossible. So, over the next two million years, we researched, and researched, and developed, and developed. Time travel is one of the more difficult things to accomplish, as tasks go, and at first our researchers made little progress. But our greatest enemy, time, was also our greatest ally, as we still had plenty of it. And with faith, and a lot of resources, we persevered, and began to succeed. Some of our greatest scientists, legends now, figured out the basics. Technology advanced as technology does, and soon technology of a power and scale never before seen in the galaxy was in our hands. There was, however one obstacle, which we had yet to overcome."

"And that was?" Grant asked, his curiosity getting the best of his skepticism.

"Energy, Captain, or power, as you humans sometimes call it. We knew everything we needed to, and could even build devices that would enable us to travel backward in time for millions of years, but we had not the energy to power them! Oh, we could go back a few days, easily, or weeks, even a year. One of our more successful attempts got us a few dozen years, but that was not enough to guarantee our invincibility. We didn't have the ability to defeat civilizations hundreds of years ahead of us yet, and sooner or later, we knew that would be needed. So we began to try to solve the problem. The fundamental approach we took involved quantum physics. You are familiar with the basic ideas involved, as evidenced by your quantum torpedoes. Our technology is significantly more precise, but we use the same technology to generate our power. This provides truly massive amounts of power, at least compared to your matter-antimatter reactors."

At this, Ashley stared at the Emperor thoughtfully, trying to discern any hint of contempt for the Federation, some disregard for life or justice, but she could not find it. Not yet. This Ardenian was far from what she had expected.

"In any case, time travel through millions of years takes truly unimaginable amounts of power. More power than it took to create the universe. It seemed like a paradox, since the universe could not possibly hold more energy than it was created with. So, we looked to other universes instead, other dimensions, from which to take our power. But we would need a quantum reactor of vast size. Another problem arose there, because a quantum reactor requires fusion to take place in a perfectly clean, clear, environment, to be able to operate. The bigger the environment involved, the harder it is to keep perfectly clean, thus placing a practical limitation on the size of such a quantum reactor. To construct one of the size we needed would take a relatively vast area, a sphere of huge, though not incomprehensible, size."

"A star," Evan interjected once more.

The Ardenian turned and looked at him sharply, disbelief in his eyes. "Captain, you have realized in one second the solution which took our scientists millions of years to discover. A star. It's the perfect size, it's already a fusion reactor, the first step in a quantum reactor, and, as we eventually realized, it keeps its environment perfectly sterile due to the immense heat and radiation which it emits. All we had to do was build a quantum reactor around it. We had the resources to do it. The issue was extreme precision. If anything were even remotely off, the entire project would blow up in our faces. Safety measures were taken, but there was no doubt in anyone's mind that if we failed, the consequences would be disastrous for the project. What we didn't know were how disastrous those results could really be. What actually happened was beyond our wildest nightmares. Because you see, Captain, time is very dangerous thing to toy with. Especially when you don't fully understand what it is you're dealing with. We thought we'd isolated ourselves, but," he shook his head. "We had no idea."

"So you built this quantum reactor?" Evan asked.

"Indeed. We picked a star, not far from this very location, on the edge of our empire, avoiding populated regions of space. We began to construct the necessary containment field and modulation equipment. The process took several thousand years, and many lives, but eventually it was done, and we were ready, or so we thought. A great audience of governmental officials was present when we prepared to bring the generator online, despite the obvious safety risks involved. Well, in any case, we brought the generator online, and it worked for about five seconds. For a brief time, we had created a power source of unimaginable power, enough to utilize our most advanced time travel designs. What we had failed to notice was that there was a cloaked vessel monitoring our operations, hiding inside the corona of the star. Its mass and fusion reactor interfered with all of our calculations, and destabilized the entire operation. The generator blew up in our faces, spreading an enormous quantum shockwave for light-years in every direction. Everything in the immediate area was destroyed, but this, unhappily, was just the beginning."

Grant frowned at this, wondering what would come next in the Ardenians narrative. He was now listening closely, held at attention by the Emperor's powerful narrative.

"Understand, we were eager to reap the benefits of the experiment. To this end, we had moved our most powerful temporal device into the area, that we might begin using our newfound power immediately. The shockwave hit that device, and something we could never have anticipated occurred. Our device absorbed some of the shockwave, and overloaded, performing numerous temporal changes, which, to this day, we do not fully understand. The timeline was vastly changed, and a second reaction occurred, much more powerful than the first. A few new warships with a new, experimental form of temporal shield, were unaffected, but they were the exception. Within the space of five minutes, our entire civilization was erased by time. Seventy-five thousand light years of territory, all once under our control, was suddenly emptied of every Ardenian ship, structure, colony, city, family, and being. It was as if we had never existed, except for those few remaining ships. Trillions of lives had suddenly not ever been lived, and everything we had ever achieved simply vanished."

The Ardenian spoke with a passionate bitterness as he said this, and indeed, Grant thought, who wouldn't? An entire quadrant, practically, erased in a few minutes.

"Strange distortions remain at the site of the initial experiment to this day. A nebula has formed, impossibly large, given its age, our scientists think it formed due to a temporal acceleration of the shockwave. Ironically, it is the very place your small fleet decided to hide when pursued by mine."

Ashley and Evan looked at each other, comprehension dawning on both their faces. "So the device we found was part of the generator you built!" Ashley said, understanding much in a flash.

"That's why the nebula was twelve light years in diameter, and ten years old," Grant said. "A temporal distortion! Of course, it's the only possible explanation!"

"Indeed," the Ardenian Emperor went on. "Your ships must have impressive sensors, to be aware of so much already," he admitted. "In any case, it was proven once more that nature does truly abhor a vacuum. Other races, hearing of our misfortune, rushed in to claim the space that we had abandoned. Our remaining ships were far too few to stop them, and we were forced to flee, run helter skelter for millions of years, while our space was claimed by new empires, new races. We were the remnants of a proud people, unable to find so much as a place to support ourselves. We were hard pressed to survive, hated by many, jealous of our past success. We were hunted across the quadrant. Finally, a mere two thousand years ago, we stumbled into this region of space, and found a system which looked promising. Unfortunately, it was not what we first expected, and its inhabitants were to become our most deadly enemies, until we dealt with them summarily. Their technology was the first we had ever encountered which could match ours in some ways, shields and weapons for example, and metal composites similar to ours in many ways. Some of our scientists believe they might have been a shadow of our empire in some way, created by the temporal accident, but I doubt this, myself. I suspect it was merely a coincidence. In any case, they called themselves the Rowaawans, and they fought us tooth and claw when we attempted to colonize space near to theirs."

"And of course they would," Grant said. "How could you expect otherwise? We've already encountered the Rowaawans, but it hardly seems as if they could pose a threat to you. After all, their technology is advanced, but they have no ships!"

"That is now, this was then," the Emperor said. "Back then the Rowaawans possessed several systems, and had a fleet of their own. But my people were sick of running. We were going to carve out our spot, no matter what it took. So we fought back, using our power-limited time-travel technology in ingenious, cruel, and brutal ways. We decimated their empire, came close to destroying their home world, and brutalized their people. It was not a proud chapter in the history of the Ardenians. Personally, I regret those actions, but I was by no means responsible for them. These actions occurred about a thousand years ago. In any case, we settled in a nearby system afterward, and the Rowaawans resigned themselves to hiding. They relocated their entire people to a location which my ships only recently discovered. Our warp signatures pointed you in their direction, hoping to throw you off the scent in that fashion. I see that we failed in that."

"It all makes sense now," Grant said. "That's why they hid the world we found them on, concealed it under a giant cloak. And—"

At that moment, Ashley coughed, and suddenly Grant realized what he might have let slip if he'd continued. It was, after all, entirely possible, that the Ardenian was quite unaware of the massive army that he and Daniel had stumbled upon. Now he understood its purpose, and perhaps he shouldn't give them away….

"While this is all very fascinating," Grant said, changing the subject, I don't see what it has to do with us. It doesn't explain why you attacked us by ramming Starbase One!"

"True," the Emperor admitted. "That issue is rather more complicated. You see, we attacked Starbase One because of you, Captain."

Grant frowned, totally perplexed. "Because of me?" he asked.

The Ardenian nodded. "Because of you. You see, you were supposed to be there, were you not?"

"I don't understand," Grant said.

"You were en route at the time," the Ardenian said, "for repairs at the station?"

"How could you possibly know that?" Evan asked, incredulous.

The Ardenian ignored his query and went on. "We thought you were due to arrive a few moments earlier, and that you would dock a few moments before the Prometheus. We intended to ram your ship, not your starbase. You see, Captain, we had to kill you. Unfortunately, our calculations were a tad off, and we hit your starbase instead."

He talked in a cold, distant voice now, seeming not to care about the hundreds of deaths he had caused.

Ashley was not about to let it go, though.

"How could you have known we were about to dock? And why did you have to kill Evan?" she asked. Evan sat down, shaking his head at the magnitude of the events in which he had suddenly become caught. Suddenly, the stars in the windows changed from streaks to dots, evidence that they had dropped out of warp. Something clicked, and another Ardenian's voice could be heard over an intercom of some sort.

"We have arrived, sir," it said.

The Emperor seared Ashley and Evan with a penetrating gaze, and then in response to Ashley's questions, he said, "Let me show you. I'll take you to the oracle." He said this mysteriously, and gestured once more for them to follow him. The Ardenian walked through the doors, his cloak swirling in his self-created breeze.

"Looks like it's time for some more answers," Grant said, looking at Ashley, who seemed very bewildered.

"I can't wait to find out why they have to kill you," Ashley said sarcastically.

Grant chuckled as he walked out the door. "We're not finished yet," he told her.

Brexton tapped his door controls several times, attempting to respond to Daniel's earlier message. He'd followed the science officer's instructions to set up his door panel as a communication device, and had just begun to test it.

"Roger," he coded to the room next door. "Panel configured."

A few moments later came the response.

"Who am I talking to?"

"Brexton," he replied.

"Stroke of luck," Daniel wired. "Are you all right?"

"Yes," Brexton sent. "Getting a little cabin fever, though."

"Where did you put the tricorder?" Daniel asked.

"Under a jeffries tube floor panel. Tube fifteen-A, junction four," Brexton answered.

Daniel wired a "ha," which Brexton interpreted as laughter. "They won't be finding it in there," Daniel gloated.

"Neither will we if we don't find a way out of here," Brexton said.

"Is your door welded too?" Daniel asked.

"They all are," Brexton replied.

"We need a weapon then, but I don't see how we're going to get our hands on one."

"Have you tried the replicator?" Brexton asked.

"Yes, but it wouldn't let me make anything dangerous," Daniel replied. "At least I'm not hungry."

At that moment, the door to Brexton's room exploded, chunks of door flying everywhere. Vu'ton, the ship's engineer, stood framed in it, holding, well… something.

"Stand by," Brexton said through the panel to Daniel. "Help coming."  
He then rose and spoke to Vu'ton, who'd now come into his quarters. "How'd you get out?" Brexton asked, puzzled. The Vulcan raised the strange device in his arms.

"I replicated some components and built this," he said, indicating the device. "It's not suitable for personnel combat, but it has adequate power to blast through these doors."

"I see that," Brexton said, looking at the pieces of door that littered the floor. "Let's get Daniel out, and find someplace to hide before they find out."

"Agreed," Vu'ton responded, and they moved cautiously out into the corridor, where they found no guards waiting for them.

Vu'ton took careful aim at Daniel's door, then fired, and blew it up.

Daniel's eyes were fairly wide as he saw the two officers, one holding a strange object, but Brexton gave him no explanation.

"Come on!" the tactical officer ordered, and they hurried out into the corridor.

"There is a jeffries tube access point fifty meters from our position," Vu'ton informed them, and led the way. As they approached the junction, the shoulder of an Ardenian guard could be seen, jutting out from the recessed access point.

Vu'ton made a gesture for the others to follow him, and they silently crept up behind the Ardenian. Vu'ton reached a hand out, and grabbed the Ardenian's shoulder.

The guard dropped to the ground, senseless.

Brexton rolled his eyes. "Should have figured," he said.

"Vulcan nerve pinch," Daniel supplemented. "We're lucky it worked, Vu'ton."

The Vulcan pointedly ignored the commander, and opened the hatch to the Jeffries tube. The officers crawled inside, and moved to a junction where they could stand, move around, and decide what to do next.

"How many of them are there?" Daniel asked.

"Several hundred," Brexton replied. "Scattered all over the ship, guarding various things, mostly."

Daniel shook his head. "We don't stand a chance."

"In any case," Vu'ton said, "We should free more of the crew. We must find proper weapons as well, if we hope to do any damage."

"Where are they keeping them?" Brexton asked. "They must have stashed them somewhere after emptying everyone's quarters."

"Maybe the armory," Daniel speculated. "We'll have to find out. The question is, how are we going to get rid of these Ardenians? Unless we free practically the entire crew, and arm them all, we don't stand a chance against this force, and something tells me they aren't going to stand by and let us do that."

"We have an advantage," Brexton said. "We know almost everything about this ship, and they don't. We'll have to find some way to use that. I suggest we use the jeffries tubes to do some scouting, find out exactly what they are doing, and get a better idea of their numbers. While keeping an eye out for weapons, of course," he went on, nodding to Vu'ton.

"I'm sure we'll figure something out," Daniel said, and moved off to another tube. "I'll go have a look," he said, and clambered off. Brexton picked another, and Vu'ton another. It was time to do some scouting.

"We're here," Cochrane reported as the Defiant slowed to impulse engines, cruising toward the Resolute, which was wandering through space on low power, trying to stay undercover.

"Tactical, deactivate cloak," David ordered. He tapped his comm. badge. "Sarah, how's that missile coming?" he asked.

"We just finished it, sir," she replied. "Want me to take it to one of the tubes and load it?"

"Please do, Lieutenant," David said. "Cochrane, hail the Resolute."

Captain Finnardy's concerned face appeared on the viewscreen.

Answering David's question before he asked it, Finnardy nodded and said, "We received the transmissions too. Several of those missiles are under construction in cargo bay three, and we're trying to get a fix on the Sovereign's power signature, but we still don't know exactly where she is."

"Have you had any trouble with the Ardenians?" David asked.

"Not so far," Finnardy replied. "I think they're ignoring us. It's like they got what they wanted."

"Maybe they have," David said. "Are any of their ships nearby?"

"Our long range sensors have picked up one of their warships in a nearby system," Finnardy replied. "It seems to be patrolling the area, but it hasn't detected us."

"We finished a prototype missile," David said. "We also took a close look at one of the Ardenian reactors, and got the information we need to make it work. We'll transmit all our data on it now," he said, nodding to Cochrane, who took the hint and started transmitting it. "I think we'll go have a field test," he said.

Finnardy nodded. "Understood. Take care. Finnardy out," he said, and closed the channel.

David tapped his comm. badge once more, and asked, "Sarah, is that missile ready?"

"Lock and load, sir," she replied.

"Good," David said. "Return to the bridge for now, you can monitor our test from here."

"Aye, sir," she said. "I'm on my way."

"Cochrane," David said. "Set a course for the Ardenian ship, maximum warp. George, engage cloak. Cochrane, engage engines."

His orders were carried out, and the Defiant closed in on the Ardenian ship.

"Contact in one minute," Paul said, monitoring sensors from the tactical console.

David rested his head on his fist, and looked out at the stars. "This had better work," he muttered.

"No kidding," Sarah said, emerging from the turbolift. She took her place at the science console. "I'm not sure how many power couplings we have left," she said grimly.

"If we had the Sovereign, that wouldn't be a problem," David said through gritted teeth.

"And if fish had wings, they could fly, sir," said Ford. "We'll have to make do."

"We're approaching the coordinates," Cochrane reported. "Dropping out of warp."

"Tactical, go to red alert," David ordered. "Drop cloak."

The Defiant unveiled herself from behind a disguise of tachyon particles and sped toward the Ardenian vessel, which was now coming about to face them.

"Arm missile," David ordered, his expression tense. "Close to effective range."

"Aye, sir," George said. "Moving to within one-thousand kilometers. Missile armed and modulated."

Blue beams of fire struck out from the Ardenian ship, blasting close by the Defiant, but missing. The ship rocked slightly, buffeted by the power of the Ardenians' close miss.

"Two-thousand kilometers," Cochrane said. "Seventeen-hundred. Fourteen-hundred," he continued, reading off the distances as the Defiant closed with Ardenian ship. "Eleven hundred. In range!" he reported with an excited look on his face.

"Fire," David said. Lowell hit the controls, and a small blue projectile launched from the Defiant's starboard torpedo tube.

"Bring us about," David said, not wanting to be too close to the Ardenian ship if it blew up. "Maintain view."

The projectile sped toward the Ardenian ship, and the eyes of the crew were riveted to the scene as the Defiant wheeled about, now increasing the distance between the two vessels. The projectile rocketed into the Ardenian ships' hull, and for a second, nothing happened.

Ford swore, and was about to give the order to engage cloak and retreat, when the Ardenian battleship exploded in an unusual, blue-tinged, pyrotechnic display.

The bridge erupted in cheers as the crew congratulated each other for their efforts. David merely let out a long, deep, breath of relief as he watched pieces of debris go flying.

"Signal Resolute that the test was a success," he ordered Cochrane. "Then rendezvous with them."

Cochrane nodded and carried out his orders.

"I think it's time to act," David said. "We'll just be needing a lot more of those missiles."

Evan and Ashley stepped through the airlock into a small shuttlepod of some kind. The Ardenian Emperor was already inside, and he sat down at the pilot's chair, activating the controls. The airlock closed and sealed itself and the pod undocked from the large Ardenian ship it had been attached to.

"Where are we going?" Ashley asked the Ardenian.

"There," he said, pointing out the shuttle's viewport as a structure came into view.

Grant stared at it. It was a space station of some sort, truly massive in every sense of the word. From what he could see, it was larger than a Borg cube, and no less fearsome. Weapon emplacements jutted out from it on all sides, and many of them glowed with deadly energy, even in dormancy.

In a few moments, the shuttle approached the station, then landed in an empty docking bay. The Emperor stepped out, and began walking briskly through a series of dark, metallic corridors that seemed to match those they had been walking through all day.

The Ardenian finally came to a huge pair of armored doors, with a complex looking control panel nearby. The Ardenian punched in a few codes, and then placed his four fingers on a security scanner of some sort. The doors clicked loudly a few times, then slid open very, very slowly, revealing a view the likes of which the two Starfleeters had never seen before.

Evan and Ashley both gasped as they peered into the vast chamber that had just been unveiled. It was the largest room upon which they had ever laid eyes. It stretched perhaps ten kilometers, Grant guessed, from top to bottom. It was basically cylindrical in shape, with some small deviations from place to place, and forged from the same, eerie, tough, metal composite that the rest of the station was. Directly in front of the doorway was a catwalk, which lay over an abyss five kilometers in depth, and beneath the ceiling, which lay five kilometers above.

There was no railing, and this room would have been a living hell for anyone afraid of heights, or open space. But it was not these simple facts that had caused Ashley and Evan to gasp in awe.

Above the catwalk, which curled in and out upon itself in strange, curving designs, were suspended hundreds of thousands, if not millions, of holographic windows, each a different shape, color and size, displaying vast numbers of unique scenes simultaneously. The room was lit by a brilliant blue light projector that hung from the ceiling, and the holographic designs twisted and floated about as they displayed their scenes. It looked extraordinarily chaotic, and Grant looked into one of the windows as it floated. It so happened, by a stroke of luck, that this one was depicting an event with which he was familiar, the destruction of a Borg cube in Earth's vicinity. It showed the battle, which had occurred three years ago, in exacting detail, from every single Federation ship involved, to the scars on the Borg cube's hull as it absorbed phaser blast after phaser blast. The Defiant was briefly visible as it soared by, firing pulse phasers into the cube's hull.

Grant, amazed, stood with his head looking up toward all the holograms, as he carefully followed the catwalk, taking care to stay in the center. The Emperor watched Ashley and Evan carefully as they surveyed the room.

"This," Evan said, stupefied, "this is the—"

"The Oracle," the Ardenian said. "A creation of one of our more gifted scientists a few hundred years ago. It shows us possibilities of the future, events of the past, and occasionally things that are happening right now, if in a somewhat randomized and chaotic fashion. Its vision only extends a few months into the future, but many years into the past. Our scientists monitor these windows, and record everything they can. This is an example of one of our devices that would become practically unlimited if given an adequate power supply. We could see as far in either direction as we wanted."

Evan, speechless, merely continued to stare around the room, taking in as much as he could with his eyes, poor as they were for the task.

"Well," the Emperor said, "enough of this banter. You wanted to know why I have to kill you, Captain, and I'll show you."

He moved to a platform that extended from the catwalk, and appeared to be a control booth of some sort. He pressed a few buttons, and suddenly the projections vanished, all except one, which hung directly in front of them. Ashley and Evan both watched it attentively.

The projection at first displayed an empty room, filled with control panels, and in which stood a reactor of some kind. This view continued for a few moments, until one of the doors opened, and an Ardenian ran in, looking alarmed. He ran to one of the control panels, but didn't ever manage to get there. Another being came running through the door, and to Ashley's surprise, she saw that it was Evan. He had a phaser in one hand, and fired it at the Ardenian, who fell to the ground.

The holographic Evan Grant then dropped to the ground and rolled to one side, avoiding a volley of disruptor fire that came through the door behind him. There was some shouting, and Ashley thought she heard an argument among the Ardenians, but as she watched, they began to fire again, and as Evan dived for cover, one of the Ardenians hit the reactor. There was a great deal more shouting, and then the reactor exploded. No more was visible, and projection went white. Then, it changed scenes, now displaying a star, around which hundreds of massive devices were arrayed, apparently inactive. Suddenly, a huge explosion occurred at a nearby space station, the shockwave speeding out toward the devices. Just as this occurred, the device began to glow bright blue, shooting out a web of blue energy, forming a spherical grid across the entire star. The shockwave hit, and dozens of the devices were knocked out of place, spiraling into the star, pulled inside by gravity as they exploded. As Ashley and Evan continued to watch, the web began to collapse, and the rest of the generators exploded.

The projection changed scenes once more, and displayed the Sovereign gliding rapidly through space, firing some kind of weapon Evan had never seen before into Ardenian battleships, which exploded left and right. Finally, the projection disappeared, the prediction apparently over.

"What was that construction around the star?" Grant demanded of the Ardenian, who simply smiled.

"Can't you guess?" the Emperor asked. "That's the sun of this very system, surrounded by the same kinds of devices that the one that failed so many years ago had been. The station you saw exploding was unidentifiable through the projection, but certainly near to this place. The shockwave de-stabilized the entire experiment, collapsing our containment grid and causing failure once again!" he sounded angry now, and looked furiously at Grant.

"All because of me," Evan said, sounding hollow and exhausted. Ashley simply remained silent, watching the two nemeses as they stared at each other.

"All because of you," the Ardenian echoed. "So you see, a few days later, another projection appeared. One showing you docking at your starbase at a certain time. So we captured the Prometheus, prepared to warp it into your very starship, but for whatever reason, you showed up late. Our automation caused the Prometheus to jump to warp inside your starbase, completely missing the target. One of our agents pursued you down to the planet, attempted to kill you, and very nearly succeeded! But not quite, and now, here you are, standing before me. I had to try and change the future, for I cannot allow this experiment to fail once more. It is the last hope of my people! Our last chance for redemption!" The Ardenian spoke these last words in a frenzy of exhilaration and fury.

His fury, however, was easily matched by that of Captain Grant, whose face had tightened. "And the crew of the Prometheus?" he asked.

"We killed them," the Emperor snapped. "They were of no use to us." This admission did not improve the captain's opinion of the Ardenians in any way, obviously, but it appeared he had bigger things to worry about.

"So you were going to try again!" Evan said, finally understanding everything. "You planned to create the ultimate power source once more, use your time travel to undo the mistakes of the past! You would travel back in time, and eliminate that vessel that hid in the corona of the last star you destroyed… you would restore your empire, and simultaneously immortalize it, give it true invincibility. I was the only thing that stood in your way, because you knew you would fail, because of this!" Evan pointed at the long since vanished projection. "If you didn't, I would stop you, and your people would finally vanish into oblivion once and for all."

"But what about Hanson?" Ashley asked. "Why did your agent try to kill him?"

"We hoped to delay Grant, to prevent him from arriving. If it were not for your pilot, you might not even be alive right now. Killing him was our backup plan."

"But Daniel foiled it," Ashley said. "You failed to kill either of them."

"Indeed. It seems cruel, in retrospect," said the Emperor. "But you see, it didn't really matter what happened to any of you, because, if we succeed, you will never have existed!" he chuckled, amused at his own cleverness.

"What?" Ashley asked. "I'm confused."

"Don't you remember? Our old empire encompassed the Federation, which would never have come into being had we still existed. You might be surprised to learn of our home world."

Evan opened his mouth, then stifled his misconception before it was spoken. The planet the Defiant had found was clearly not the origin of the Ardenian species.

The Ardenian tapped another button on the control console, and another projection appeared. This one seemed to be a simple holographic image. It displayed a class M planet, with numerous, very familiar looking continents. They were not in the positions Grant was used to seeing them in, but then, Grant supposed, this projection was forty-five million years out of date.

"Earth?" Ashley exclaimed. "That's impossible! We would have found traces of another advanced civilization-"

"We were _erased_, Commander!" The Ardenian Emperor stormed. "We _never even existed_! There was nothing there for you to find!"

"So you want your empire back, and to do it, you are willing to sacrifice everyone in the current Alpha Quadrant," Evan accused.

"It is nothing more than our birthright!" the Ardenian fumed, angrily.

"You had your shot!" Evan shouted. "Your people's mistake cost them their right to exist! You have no right to erase the Federation, or anyone else in the galaxy!"

"So what would you have me do, Captain?" the Ardenian asked, looking dangerously at Grant. "Fade into oblivion? Without a fight? I think not."

"Your people don't have to die," Ashley exclaimed. "You could join the Federation—"

"_Never_!" the Ardenian said vehemently. "We are a proud race, this quadrant belongs to US! We will not bow before others in peace, not while I am alive, and not while there is one Ardenian left breathing!"

"Then it's war," Grant said. "I cannot allow you to succeed."

"I will enjoy watching you attempt to stop me," the Ardenian said, "when you are dead! In twenty-five hours, we will activate the devices around the star, and reclaim what is ours. Your people will vanish from the face of time itself, never to be seen again, and the Ardenians will take their rightful place as masters of this quadrant!"

Evan shook his head in disappointment at the Emperor's ranting. There was clearly no way to negotiate.

"Take them away!" the Emperor yelled to two nearby guards. "I will personally oversee your execution in twenty_-four_ hours," he said, placing emphasis on the four, to deny them hope of stopping his plans. Guards stepped up behind Ashley and Evan, and locked their hands into restraints once more. They were hauled off to another cell, this one located on the station itself, and hurled inside, left to contemplate their fate.

Daniel stuck his head out of the jeffries tube, surveying engineering. He saw several Ardenian guards, and numerous technicians working with various devices at unknown tasks inside the engine room. There were several large piles of phasers, tricorders, and other equipment nearby, and he realized that this was where the Ardenians had chosen to stockpile their equipment. He grimaced. The room was well guarded, and it would be very difficult to get at any of it. He pulled his head back inside the tube, and closed the hatch as silently as he could. Praying that none of the Ardenian guards had heard the click, he clambered back up to the junction that he, Vu'ton, and Brexton had agreed to use as their base. It was several sections away, and it took him some time to reach it. When he did, he found several new faces waiting for him, the latest of those that Vu'ton and Brexton had rescued.

Among them was Hanson, and the better part of alpha squad, composed of some of the best security men the Sovereign had on board.

"I found the equipment," Daniel said. "They're keeping it in engineering, under heavy guard. We'll need to create some kind of distraction if we want to get at it."

"That shouldn't be too difficult," one of the alpha squad members said. "One of us will just have to go show our faces, they should come running."

"It might not be that easy," Brexton said. "They aren't stupid, after all."

"We'll need to count on having a little luck to pull this off anyway," Daniel said dismissively. "We're just lucky they haven't found these tubes yet. I noticed a lot of technicians working on parts of our engines. I can't help wondering if they're programming us the same way they did with the Prometheus."

Vu'ton frowned at the thought of his beloved starship being used as a battering ram, and Daniel gave him a sympathetic pat on the back. While the Vulcan did not really appreciate it, he made no comment.

"If we can get our hands on engineering," Brexton said, "it's possible we could retake the ship. We can even reroute the bridge controls, if we have enough time."

"I'll go lure them off," the leader of alpha squad said. "I'll sneak into engineering and lead them away, and try not to get killed in the process. In the meantime, I suggest you get yourselves as close to that equipment as you can."

Brexton nodded, simply acknowledging the man's bravery. Alpha squad had guts, that much was undisputed.

"Brexton, did you get the tricorder?" Daniel asked.

He nodded, and produced it in his hand for the science officer to see.

"All right," Brexton said. "Let's get moving."

"I've got something," Alex reported from the science console onboard the Resolute. "A whole lot of tritanium, moving at low impulse two sectors away. It could be the Sovereign."

Finnardy nodded and tapped his comm. badge. "Engineering, how many of those torpedoes do you have done?"

"Eight," came the response. "Four more well on the way."

"Understood. Finnardy out."

"The Defiant's just returned from the test run," Jennifer reported. "She's decloaking to starboard."

"Incoming hail from the Defiant," Shelton reported from the helm.

"On screen," Finnardy ordered. Once more David's face appeared on the viewscreen.

"Test successful," David reported. "But we've only managed to construct two more missiles, and we're fresh out of power couplings."

"We have eight ready, and four more on the way," Finnardy said. "Not too many power couplings left over here either. On the bright side, we think we've located the Sovereign. We're transmitting the coordinates now. I'll order six torpedoes to be beamed to your ship, to the cargo bay. I recommend that as soon as we have the four under construction ready, we go and attempt to rescue the Sovereign. I don't want to delay too long."

"Agreed," David said. "We've received the coordinates, lowering shields for transport."

Finnardy shot a questioning glance at tactical, and his officer nodded, indicating that they had beamed the missiles aboard.

"Missiles received," David said with a grin. "We're loading them right now."

"We're falling into formation," Finnardy said, as Shelton maneuvered the Akira-class cruiser next to the smaller Defiant.

"Missiles are in the tubes," David said. "We're ready when you are, Captain."

"We need a few more minutes to finish the missiles," Finnardy said. "Then we'll be ready to move out."

"Understood," David said. "Let me know when you're ready to go. David out."

Daniel peered out once more from the hatch of the jeffries tube, this time with several more people behind him. The Ardenian guards remained unaware of his presence, and he awaited the distraction the alpha squad leader had promised him. It was not long in coming.

The main doors to engineering slid open, and there he was, waving his arms and shouting at the top of his voice. Not ones to disappoint, a full three quarters of the eight Ardenian guards took off in pursuit. The alpha squad man turned and ran.

Daniel gave the signal to the others behind him, and shot out of the jeffries tube like a bolt of lightning. He rolled behind a console as the two alarmed guards opened fire, and got to his feet, grabbing a phaser from one of the racks stacked behind him. He fired it, and the guards dived for cover as well. Some of the technicians began shouting, and Daniel worried that they might sound an alarm. Brexton had the same thought, and activated the forcefield around the warp core, lest weapons fire hit it and destroy the entire ship. Seeing this, Daniel set his phaser to a wide-angle stun shot and fired, depleting the phaser, but knocking out every single one of the technicians. He tossed away the useless phaser, and picked up another one from the abundant supply behind him. The rest of the freed Starfleet crewmen had now obtained weapons of their own, and finally they succeeded in taking out the two Ardenian guards.

Daniel nodded to Vu'ton, who began to put their plan into action. They all took guard positions around engineering, as the engineer began entering commands into the environmental control console.

Several Ardenians were pacing around the bridge, getting the hang of controlling the Sovereign's systems, and attempting to access the computer core. They were all very intently focused at their tasks, and as a result they failed to notice the faint hissing sound coming from the air vents as Vu'ton mixed the normal air with carbon monoxide. Soon one of the Ardenians began to gasp for air, and they attempted to leave the room, only to find that the doors had been locked, again courtesy of Vu'ton in engineering.

It was a somewhat grisly scene, as they all passed out, grasping their necks, but Vu'ton resumed normal air supply before the dosage was fatal.

"They're unconscious," he reported to the others in engineering. "I have full control of the ship from here, but I haven't locked out the bridge controls."

"Good," Daniel said, looking inspired. "I have an idea," he said.

"Site to site transport," Brexton commanded. "Beam us directly to the bridge."

Vu'ton followed their orders, and soon the two Starfleet officers were back at their rightful posts.

Daniel fired his phaser, on stun, into each of the comatose Ardenians, just to make sure none of them would cause any trouble, anytime soon.

Daniel tapped his liberated comm. badge. "Vu'ton," he said. "Are those door welds the Ardenians locked us in with airtight?"

"Yes, Commander," Vu'ton replied. "For all practical purposes, at least. What do you have in mind?" he asked.

"You'll see," Daniel said. "Just make sure the doors to engineering stay closed," he warned.

"Aye, aye," Vu'ton said.

Daniel accessed the operations control panel on board the bridge, punched in several commands and access codes. Brexton provided the codes that Daniel didn't know. Soon, with one button press, Daniel would activate his plan, and perform an act never before attempted on a starship so large.

"In space," Brexton intoned cheerfully, "no-one can hear you scream."

"Here goes nothing," Daniel said, and pressed the button. At that moment, every airlock on the entire starship slid open, sending huge amounts of oxygen, dust, and Ardenians flying out into space.

"Shutting down environmental systems everywhere except the bridge and engineering," Daniel commented as he did so.

With the environmental system offline, the ship quickly decompressed, except for the crew quarters, which were all welded shut, ejecting or killing every single Ardenian onboard in the process.

When it was done, Daniel tapped the controls once more, with a satisfied expression on his face. "Life support online," he reported to Brexton.

He tapped his comm. badge. "Vu'ton, we have control of the ship. Did the leader of alpha squad make it back?"

"He did," replied Vu'ton emotionlessly.

"Good," Daniel said. "Tell alpha squad to go break everyone out of their 'cells' and get to their posts."

"Understood," Vu'ton said, and closed the channel.

"Problem!" Brexton exclaimed from tactical.

"What?" Daniel asked, alarmed. Brexton pointed at the viewscreen. Seven Ardenian battleships were on it, closing rapidly on the Sovereign, naturally curious as to why several hundred dead Ardenians were suddenly floating through space.

"Oh crap," Daniel said.

"Time to leave!" Brexton said, and dove for the helm. He was about to engage warp engines when the tactical station he had just vacated beeped. Daniel ran over to it to check on the situation.

"The Resolute and Defiant just jumped out of warp!" he said. "I don't know what they think they can do here, but—"

He stopped.

"What?" Brexton asked, his finger hovering just aboard the 'warp' button.

"Oh," Daniel said, and motioned at the viewscreen.

Numerous quantum missiles were streaking toward the Ardenian warships. They all hit their marks, and soon the seven battleships were a miniature asteroid belt, floating in the middle of nowhere.

Hanson strode out of the turbolift, jogged to his post, and Daniel and Brexton took their normal stations.

"Alpha squad's broken everyone out," Hanson reported. "The captain and the first officer are not aboard."

"Let's hope they weren't aboard any of those warships, either," Daniel said, looking out the viewscreen.

"Incoming hail," Hanson reported. "From the Resolute."

"On screen," Daniel said, now the ranking officer on the ship.

"Lower your shields and prepare to be—oh," Captain Finnardy said, seeing Daniel, Hanson, and Brexton on the other bridge.

"We just finished escaping," Daniel explained to the perplexed officer.

"I see," Finnardy said. "Where's the captain?"

"I wish I knew," Daniel said. "The Ardenians took him and the first officer somewhere else, they aren't on board."

"They were probably taken to the home world," Finnardy speculated. "We'll have to go in and look for him. In the meantime, could you start replicating some of those quantum missiles for us? We have the reactor technology info on the Ardenians, we just don't have the parts to put together many missiles."

"Glad to," Daniel replied. "We'll be loaded in no time."

"Good," Finnardy said. "I'll send the Defiant ahead under cloak to try and locate Grant and Ashley. Once you beam them a few missiles, anyway."

"Acknowledged," Daniel reported, monitoring the replication process. Already have twelve done. Transporting now."

The Defiant's received them, sir," Brexton reported.

"All right," Finnardy said. "Let me know when you have enough for us and yourself, too," he added. "Finnardy out."

The viewscreen switched back to its view of the stars, and Daniel took the captain's chair, as a young lieutenant exited the turbolift and took the science console.

"Forty missiles ready," he reported.

"Keep working," Daniel said, and waited some more. Within a few minutes, the Sovereign had produced almost two hundred of the deadly weapons. Daniel ordered half of them to be beamed aboard the Resolute. The other half were loaded into the Sovereign's own torpedo bays.

"Where the hell are they?" David fumed on the bridge of the Defiant, now back in the home system of the Ardenians.

"I'm looking sir, I'm looking," Sarah said, exasperated, scanning the system for all she was worth. There were way too many objects in the system for this to be easy, and the captain knew that she was doing her best. However, that fact made waiting no less easy, given the risk that Captain Grant and Commander Brightson might be in great peril.

"Got'em," Laura reported happily. "They are in…." she said, dramatically pausing while she hit a few controls, "that station," she finished, highlighting one of the many structures on the Defiant's viewscreen.

"Good god," Ford said, looking at it. "That thing's huge!"

"And well armed," George reported after running a tactical analysis. "We're going to be hard pressed to get close enough to attack it," he said.

"Inform the Resolute, and ask her to come join us. I think it's time we did a little manipulating," David said.

"Aye, sir," Cochrane said, firing off another communication.

Ashley and Grant were sitting next to each other, their backs to a rather cold, hard wall, staring at the door, wondering how many of their twenty-four hours were left. Evan estimated they had two left, but they had no real means of keeping track of time.

"I'm not going quietly," Evan said, looking at Ashley. "If I have even a tiny chance of stopping them, I've got to try."

"Whatever you do," she said, looking back at him, "I'll be right behind you."

Evan managed a small smile, and she managed one in response.

"You never know," she pointed out. "A rescue team could come barging through those doors at any minute."

He shook his head, not looking terribly cheerful. "I'm not going to count on it," he said, and stared back at the door for a bit.

"Evan, I'm not afraid to die," she said slowly, looking at him earnestly.

"I know," he said. "And neither am I. What I'm afraid of is dying when I know the Federation will be close behind me."

Ashley let out a slow, deep, breath. "We can't let that happen," she said, fire in her eyes.

"We'll do our best," Evan said.

The doors slid open, once more framing them in light. An Ardenian stood before them. "Come," he said simply, but firmly. Evan rose to his feet, as did Ashley. He took a deep breath, and paused a moment before moving. Ashley took that moment to step up to him and kiss him, fiercely, probably for the last time.

The Ardenian, along with two guards that came in behind him, pulled them apart, and, grabbing the hand restraints that still held their arms behind their backs, shoved them along. It was not long before they reached the room the Ardenians wanted them in. The doors opened to reveal the Emperor, and two guards holding large disruptor rifles in their hands. Evan and Ashley were pushed against the wall, and released.

"Unbind them," the Emperor said. "They will be vaporized. No sense wasting two good restraints." He smirked at his own joke, and Evan shook his head, disbelieving his good fortune. This was going to make things a lot easier. As the guards removed the restraints, he winked at Ashley, and made an almost imperceptible nod of his head toward the Emperor. She nodded as well, and swallowed nervously, watching the Ardenians who'd brought them in leave.

"Any last words?" the Emperor asked, still smiling smugly, watching their faces intently for any sign of fear. He found none.

"No, at least not today," Evan said.

"Kill them," the Emperor said to the two guards. They leveled their rifles at the two prisoners, and took aim. Ashley shot a glance at Evan, wondering how long he would wait to make his move.

Suddenly Evan dropped into a crouch and dashed forward. Ashley acted identically and simultaneously, already having decided she wasn't going to wait any longer. The guards pressed the trigger buttons as fast as they could, but they hadn't adjusted their aim enough, and Evan and Ashley were upon them almost instantly in the cramped quarters. Evan grabbed the barrel of one of the rifles as the guard tried to re-aim, and shoved it to one side in a burst of strength. He threw a punch at the guard with his right fist, causing him to stiffen and jerk backwards slightly, raising his rifle as a shield. As Evan attempted to pull the rifle away, he realized the Ardenian was much too strong for that. Instead, he grabbed it with both hands, and used it as leverage to mount a double footed kick against the Ardenian's own frame.

Evan felt a crack, and they both fell to the ground in a heap, the Ardenian groaning, Evan still fighting to keep the rifle from coming to bear. He risked a glance over to Ashley. She was doing well enough, and as he watched she unleashed a furious kick, straight into the Ardenian guard, who stood dazed for a moment.

Suddenly, he felt a pair of hands around his neck, and remembered the Emperor, who had decided to intervene now. The Ardenian was pulling him upward, off of the guard, and into a headlock. Evan struggled desperately, but was forced slowly into a standing position, the Ardenian directly behind him. He pulled with both his arms against the Emperor, fighting for survival, and gaining some slight breathing room. He flung his head backward with all his strength, jamming it straight into the Ardenian's jaw. Evan felt another crack, and the hands suddenly fell away. Grant dropped his foot straight onto the head of the Ardenian guard, who was still trying to get to his feet, and reached for the rifle. The guard fell back to the ground, stunned, but Evan felt a hand on his shoulder, and he was spun around once more to face the Emperor, who swung a strong fist straight into Evan, who spun around once more, soon finding his face in a wall.

He heard an angry cry from the other side of the room, and then a meaty thwack, and saw, to his amazement, the second Ardenian guard stumble backward into the Emperor, who was striding purposefully toward Evan. They were both off bEvance for a moment, and a blue blast came out of nowhere, vaporizing the Ardenian guard. The Ardenian Emperor, realizing that Ashley had picked up a weapon, ran out of the room.

"We can't let him get away!" Evan shouted. "He'll bring help."

He picked up the rifle that the other senseless Ardenian had dropped on the ground, and jogged through the door in pursuit. The Emperor had gone left, and Evan turned the same way, firing indiscriminately as he hunted for the Ardenian, knowing only an hour remained before they would activate the devices around the star. He did not want to find out what the Ardenians would be capable of when that occurred.

The Resolute and Sovereign dropped out of warp inside the Ardenian home system, and sped toward the home world, quantum missiles armed and ready. Battleships were already moving to intercept, but it seemed the Federation ships had little to fear from them.

On the bridge of the Sovereign, Daniel eyed the approaching enemies, and, hating to give them no quarter, issued surprising orders.

"Hail the lead Ardenian ship," he said.

"Aye, sir," Hanson said, and carried out his orders. After a brief pause, he said: "No visual, but the channel's open."

"This is Commander Daniel Hader of the Sovereign," Daniel announced. "Break off your attack or I will be forced to destroy your vessel. I have weapons capable of destroying it in a single shot. You have been warned."

The channel closed, and Hanson reported, "They are slowing and altering course, slightly."

"Good," Daniel said. "Move to approach the station the Defiant warned us about."

"Sir!" Brexton said, sounding alarmed. "I'm detecting a launch from several Ardenian battleships. Dozens of smaller ships are now on sensors, all approaching at flank speed! They appear to be unmanned."

"Evasive maneuvers!" Daniel yelled. "Try out phasers on this bunch, Mr. Brexton!"

Brexton fired phasers, and they produced no reaction in the oncoming ships. There were several direct hits, but the fighters remained undamaged.

The first of them began to fire small, relatively harmless blasts at the Sovereign's shields. Suddenly the attack became a frenzy, with dozens of ships attacking the Sovereign and Resolute simultaneously, slowing their progress.

The ship rocked under their assault, and Brexton looked worried. "They're firing tachyon bursts into our shields, sir. I have to remodulate them every few seconds, and then their weapons get in some hits. We won't last long at this rate."

"Take out the battleships," Daniel said. "At least we won't have to worry about larger firepower then!"

"Aye, sir," Brexton said, and fired a large spread of missiles out of the Sovereign's main launcher, each of them finding a separate target. The Ardenian ships exploded spectacularly, but the smaller ones did not relent.

"Fire a few missiles set to proximity detonation," Daniel ordered, hoping to scatter the smaller craft. Brexton followed his orders, and the Sovereign rocked from the shockwaves caused by her own weapons. "The ships have scattered," Brexton reported. "They're regrouping!"

"Full impulse!" Daniel cried. "Straight for the station!"

The Sovereign burst free from the perimeter of smaller craft, and sped toward the station. The Resolute performed a similar maneuver, and sped forward alongside, firing anti-matter bursts to confuse the sensors of the smaller craft.

The fighters continued to attack the larger vessels, but as they struggled to keep pace, their attack was at least localized and contained. The Sovereign fired a spread of missiles from her rear launcher, and scored a few lucky hits, destroying several of the fighters.

Daniel watched the struggles of the Resolute from his own bridge, then decided he could not wait any longer to take action.

"Hanson, open a channel to the Resolute and Defiant," he said. "We've had a change of plans."

"Channel open," Hanson said.

"This is Daniel Hader of the Sovereign," he informed all who were listening. "Under this kind of attack, we have no time to hold the planet hostage! Engage plan B: attack the station! Daniel out."

"Channel closed," Hanson reported. "They have acknowledged."

"Take us into weapons range of the station!" Daniel ordered. "We'll have to find a way to damage it conventionally, we need to get its shields down without destroying it if we want Grant and Ashley back alive."

Cochrane skillfully maneuvered the Defiant toward the station, rocking it back and forth crazily to avoid weapons fire. The station had powerful disruptors, and huge beams, almost the width of the Defiant itself, shot out, shifting around as they tried to hit the Starfleet craft.

Lowell desperately scanned the station for tactical weaknesses, trying to find a way in. As far as he could tell, it was shielded exactly like all the other Ardenian ships they'd encountered, making it virtually impervious to phasers and photon torpedoes.

Evan cut off the Ardenian Emperor as he approached a turbolift. He fired his rifle a few times, and the Ardenian rapidly changed direction and ran back the way he'd come. Evan ran, in hot pursuit. Suddenly, alarms went off all over the station, and he feared they'd activated some kind of security alert. He realized this was not the case when several Ardenians ran right past him, clearly in a desperate hurry to get to other locations.

"They must be under attack," Evan said to Ashley, who was following, and covering his rear.

"We might just live through this!" she exclaimed, and fired several more times. Evan kept the Emperor dodging, but he finally made it to a familiar looking door. He opened it quickly, then hurried inside the Oracle. Evan dashed inside after him, before the doors could close, but Ashley barely made it in. Evan looked around determinedly for the Ardenian, but the room was once more a swirling display of holograms, and the Ardenian was nowhere in sight. On the catwalk, Evan immediately became cautious, and slowed his walk, looking for any sign of the Ardenian.

His eyes shifted from side to side, and he advanced slowly, looking for any obvious exits, aside from the door he'd just come in through. There were none, except for a door at the other side of the network of catwalks, and it was at least three hundred meters away, much too far for the Ardenian to have gone already. He motioned for Ashley to stay by the door for the time being, and continued to advance. Suddenly, from behind one of the holographic projections, a snarling alien leapt out. The Emperor tackled Evan to the ground, and Grant grunted as his back hit the hard metal. He was no more than three feet from oblivion, and he knew it. He hit the Ardenian with the butt of his rifle, but the Emperor grabbed one of his wrists immediately, and snapped it backward, causing Grant to lose his grip. The rifle clattered out of his hands, and fell into the abyss below. Evan rolled to one side, in a safe direction, and scrambled to his feet, just as the Ardenian did the same. Grant punched him, with a strength born of desperation, and the Ardenian responded in kind. As Ashley watched nearby, helpless to assist Evan without taking an equal risk of killing him, the two beings fought for their right to exist.

The Sovereign bucked under yet another strong hit, her rear shields failing under the onslaught of small Ardenian fighters. The bridge no longer looked clean and polished, forgoing that look for a more damaged, crippled appearance. There was a cut on Daniel's forehead from being thrown across the room, and sparks were flying from a downed conduit. He ordered another salvo of missiles to be fired backward, and they took out a few more fighters, but not enough. More were streaming in by the minute, and the Sovereign wouldn't last much longer. She was too large to dodge the powerful blasts from the nearby space station, and so she was forced to absorb double punishment. The Defiant's close range scans had failed to find any weaknesses, though she was still scanning, but the situation was beginning to look dire.

"We're going to have to withdraw, soon," Brexton said, shaking his head. "Shields are at thirty percent. We can't take much more of this!"

"Not yet!" Daniel said. "We have to give the Defiant more time!"

So the Sovereign continued to roll and dodge, firing blasts whenever she had the chance, trying desperately to stay alive. The Resolute gave what help she could, but was in a similar plight herself. The Defiant was farther in, darting closely around the station and seemed relatively above the conflict. She was not, however, making any progress.

"Shields at twenty percent!" Brexton yelled over the din of the bridge coming apart. "We have to retreat!"  
"NO!" Daniel yelled. "I'm not leaving them behind!"  
"Sir!" Hanson said. "I'm reading two incoming starships! Cardassian design!"

Daniel's heart sank, and Hanson examined his console more closely. "They're the same ones we left behind in the nebula, sir!" Hanson said incredulously. "It looks like they caught up with us after all!"

Daniel slammed his fist into the arm of the captain's chair, and was about to order a retreat when the two Cardassian Keldons sped by the Sovereign, and began firing at the station.

"What the hell?" Daniel asked, watching them in disbelief.

"I guess they figure the Ardenians are a bigger threat to their Sovereignty than we are!" Brexton said. "I'm not complaining. Most of the fighter craft have broken off their attack and are pursuing the Cardassians!"

Evan grunted and shifted his weight, pushing desperately against the Ardenian's powerful onslaught. If either one of them gave even a foot, they would be thrown off the side of the catwalk, and faced certain death. The Ardenian was stronger, but also taller, and Grant lowered his weight, trying to shove the alien off. They seemed fairly evenly matched, except that Grant's shoes were beginning to slip on the abrasive metal. Realizing that he had to do something creative, and fast, he thought quickly.

Evan dropped flat to the ground, and the Ardenian slipped over him, having counted on having Evan to push against. He fell heavily against the catwalk, not quite falling off, as Evan had hoped, and scrambled to his feet. He turned to face Evan once more, and seeing the fury in the Starfleet man's eyes, kept on turning, and ran toward the door at the other end of the catwalk. Evan ran in pursuit, but stopped as Ashley shouted to him. Realizing what she wanted, he ran back toward her, and she tossed him the rifle that she was carrying. He turned in pursuit of the Ardenian once more, and Ashley followed him as he ran full tilt down the catwalk. He heard the doors behind them slide open, and disruptor blasts flew by, narrowly missing them. They reached the door a few seconds after the Ardenian, and Evan was about to pursue him inside when he noticed something next to the door panel. It was a transmitter.

He changed gears immediately, tossing the rifle back to Ashley, who fired down the catwalk, keeping the pursuing Ardenian security personnel at bay. Evan activated the transmitter after a few failed attempts, and spoke through it.

"To anyone within the sound of my voice, this is Captain Evan Grant of the Federation!" he said. He was speaking desperately, and quickly. "I am trapped inside the source of this transmission, trying to prevent the activation of the devices located around the nearby sun. To any Starfleet vessels, the destruction of this station will accomplish that task: permanently. All other concerns, including the rescue of Commander Brightson and myself, are secondary. I repeat, you must destroy this station at all costs! We don't have much time, fifteen minutes at most!"

He stopped transmitting, then went through the door the Emperor had gone through mere seconds before. This one had no security measures, relying on the first door to keep unwanted visitors out. Unfortunately for the Ardenians, the system had failed.

Evan entered the room, and then froze. It looked familiar to him. He realized that this was the room the Oracle had displayed in the 'prophecy' that the Emperor had shown Evan. A massive reactor was contained in the center, and a million questions were racing through his mind.

He saw movement out of the corner of his eye, and saw the Emperor, trapped inside this room with no other exit, make a dash for a nearby console. Evan, not knowing what he planned to do, and not caring to find out, fired a quick volley of blasts, which finally hit their mark. The Ardenian Emperor was hit in mid leap, and fell to the ground without having hit a single control. That much was finally over. Ashley's eyes widened as she realized the prophecy was being enacted as she watched, with minor changes. For one, she was here, which the oracle hadn't shown. She wondered what that meant. Could its prediction be changed? She'd noticed that the Oracle's vision had shown Evan's death, essentially. If the reactor overloaded, sure they would both be killed as a result.

She looked at Evan, and then back at the door. It was beginning to open. They would know soon, no matter what happened.

The Sovereign fired a few phaser blasts into the station, appearing to have no effect whatsoever. Her shields were finally going down, and Daniel's hand was about to be forced.

All three Starfleet captains had listened with pained expressions as they heard Evan's transmission, and the two Cardassian captains aboard their vessels had listened with very confused ones. Their attacks were having no effect on the station at all, and they were beginning to wonder if they should retreat. They were clearly in over their heads.

Daniel did some forced calculations in his head. If the captain's transmission were to be trusted, they had only ten minutes to destroy the station, and the captain had sounded uncertain. As he watched the futile efforts of the other vessels to destroy the station, he knew there was only one thing left to do.

"Mr. Brexton," he said heavily. "Arm a quantum missile."

Brexton, with a very defeated expression on his face, did as he was ordered.

Daniel stared vacantly at the viewscreen for a few more seconds, considering the situation. He saw no other options, and he was now convinced of the necessity of his actions.

"Open a channel to all nearby ships," he told Hanson. "Including the Cardassians."

"Aye, sir," Hanson said.

"All ships, stand clear of the station," Daniel ordered. "Get as much distance between yourself and it as you can."

"Ships have acknowledged," Hanson said. "All of them are moving off."

The ship shuddered under one last blast from Ardenian disruptors, and her shields failed. Daniel gave the order.

"Target the station and fire the missile," he ordered Brexton.

Brexton tapped the controls, firing a single quantum missile at the station.

"Bring us about," Daniel said. "Maintain view."

He watched with sorrow as the tiny blue dot sped toward the immense station, toward his two friends, and consoled himself with the fact that there was nothing he could have done, that he was even acting under orders. The dot was moving closer and closer to the station. The viewscreen zoomed in, providing better depth perception. Daniel watched closely as it flew closer, then struck the station, exploding.

Nothing happened. Daniel waited, remembering it had taken the first warhead a while to detonate the Ardenian battleship it had been used against.

Still nothing happened. He waited more, and still nothing happened.

"It didn't work, sir," Brexton said, looking disconsolate. "I think the reactor may be too far inside the station. Our warheads can't take effect."

Daniel sighed, and realized, with terrible certainty, that there was nothing more he could do. They had been defeated.

"Withdraw to a safe distance," he ordered Hanson. "We'll at least observe. Suggestions are welcome," he added as an afterthought, but it didn't look as if anyone had any.

Evan watched the enlarging opening of the door with all the same questions running through his mind as Ashley. Would the prophecy come true? He raised his disruptor bolt and aimed it determinedly at the door. The first Ardenian came in, and he fired, felling the alien immediately. Two more followed close behind, and they began to fire disruptors at the captain. He dropped to the ground and rolled to one side. The disruptor bolts he had avoided sailed through the air- and impacted harmlessly on a wall to one side of the reactor. Evan fired again, and again, dropping the two Ardenians. No more appeared to be immediately behind them, and he dashed to the door controls. Hitting them, he closed the door. Raising his disruptor, he fired a prolonged burst, welding the door closed.

He turned to face Ashley, who was breathing heavily, and looked very relieved.

"How much time?" he asked her.

"Maybe six minutes?" she responded. The captain groaned at their guesswork. The safe thing to do would be just to destroy the reactor, to blow it up, but something in his gut told him he shouldn't do it, that he should give whatever outside forces that were attacking the station a few more minutes to get him and Ashley out…

Putting his phaser rifle aside, he pulled Ashley close and kissed her, he feared for the last time.

"If we don't make it out of here," he said, "it's been an honor."

"The honor was mine," Ashley said, and they both sat down, waiting until it was necessary for them to destroy the reactor. They still had some time, he was sure of that.

Daniel sat helplessly in the captain's chair, pondering what to do next. One last possibility had occurred to him, though it was not one that he relished. They could try to ram the station hoping to destroy it that way, but he resolved not to resort to such measures yet. The ship shook as an Ardenian fighter blasted it, but the armor was still taking the brunt of the attack. Ten minutes had passed since the captain's transmission, and time was running out.

At that moment, the science console beeped, and the lieutenant manning it gasped.

"Sir…" he said hesitantly. "I'm reading about six hundred warp signatures heading this way. The lead ones are terminating, they must be going to impulse…"

"On screen," Daniel said, already having lost all his capacity to be shocked.

The viewscreen displayed hundreds of warp flashes as hundreds of ships dropped out of warp, very close to him and the station. They were very dark in color, and hard to see against the backdrop of space.

"Magnify," he ordered. The viewscreen zoomed in, and he found himself staring at a familiar design. The ships were identical to those that had been orbiting Rowaawa as guardians.

"Oh my god," he said, getting to his feet. "The timing," he gasped, as he looked in awe at the vast fleet that had been assembled. As he watched, the Rowaawan ships opened fire.

"They've targeted the station!" Brexton said excitedly. "More importantly, they appear to be doing damage. The station's shields are weakening, fast!"

David watched a similar scene unfolding from his considerably faster, smaller, and less damaged starship. Suddenly the implications of what was happening hit him.

"Bring us back in toward the station!" he ordered. "Full impulse!"

Cochrane carried out his orders.

Evan looked up in surprise as the station began to shake. Sparks flew from the top of the reactor room as he watched, and the slight tremors were becoming larger, fast. He imagined outside starships trying to destroy the station, fighting their way through massive armor plates, incredibly strong Ardenian metal composites, and powerful defenses, and knew what he had to do. There couldn't be more than a minute left of their time, and his mission was too important to take the slightest chance with. He got to his feet, gazed for one last time upon his beautiful first officer, and picked up the disruptor rifle.

He leveled it at the reactor, checking his aim and the power settings one last time. He moved his index finger to pull the trigger- and vanished in a swirl of transporter energy.

"I have them, sir!" George crowed triumphantly from the tactical station of the Defiant.

"Get us out of here," David ordered, casting one last look at the station, as it buckled and shook under the impact of hundreds of Rowaawan beam weapons.

"Aye, sir," Cochrane said with relief, and piloted the Defiant away from the station, moving her along at full impulse.

The captains of the three Starfleet vessels and the two Cardassian ones watched in awe as the Rowaawans fired the final volley into the Ardenian station. It gave one last mighty shake, and then exploded, sending out a huge shockwave moving at close to the speed of light. Even as this occurred, the devices near the star began to light up as they powered on, but the shockwave hit them, sending dozens of them spiraling into the star, pulled in by gravity. The blue network of energy beams seen once already by Evan Grant and Ashley Brightson did not even have time to form, and the disturbance created by the devices did not even force the star into supernova, let alone cause the temporal consequences of the previous experiment.

The realization that his captain had been aboard the station when it exploded was just beginning to sink into Daniel's mind, when Hanson's console beeped.

"Incoming hail from the Defiant," Hanson reported.

"On screen," Daniel said, sinking into his chair.

On the viewscreen appeared not only the face of Captain David Harrison, but also those of Evan Grant, looking rather bruised, and Ashley Brightson, looking as bright and beautiful as ever. They were all smiling, and Daniel responded with one of his own as he saw them, realizing what must have happened. The ship rocked slightly as one last Ardenian fighter strove to make its voice heard, and Brexton fired a missile at it in irritation. To his surprise it hit, and from that moment on, the conflict was truly over.

After this interlude, Captain Harrison began to speak.

"I can't believe the Rowaawans showed up," he said. "So much for hiding, eh?"

Evan shook his head. "I think I can shed some light on that," he said. "Let's all get together for dinner tonight," he went on as Captain Finnardy's face appeared on one half of the viewscreen, joining the conversation.

"Yes," Finnardy said. "But this time on _my_ ship!"

Daniel chuckled.

"In the meantime, let's find out what the Rowaawans want," Grant said.

"Acknowledged," both Daniel and Finnardy said, and the channel closed.

Evan Grant took an empty chair to the left of Captain Harrison onboard the defiant, and let out a long, relieved breath.

David Harrison smiled at him. "This was one mission I won't forget," he said.

"Nor I," Grant said.

"Sir, incoming transmission from one of the Rowaawan vessels," Cochrane said.

"On screen," David said.

A Rowaawan appeared on the viewscreen, standing on a bridge of her own.

"Is Captain Grant of the Federation onboard your vessel?" she asked David.

"He's right here," the captain said, stepping aside to let Grant take center stage. He did so, and realized with a shock that the Rowaawan woman was the same one who had stared at him as he'd been taken into the city by Rowaawan guards. Grant began to speak.

"On behalf of the United Federation of Planets, I thank you," he said, deep gratitude in his voice. "The entire quadrant owes you an unpayable debt."  
"And on behalf of the Rowaawan home world," the captain of the Rowaawan ship said, "I thank you, for agreeing to protect the secret of our existence, despite our rather callous treatment of you and your men. We were skeptical of your story at first, but now I can see that it was quite true. Any enemy of the Ardenians is a friend of ours," she said.

"I'd heard of how they damaged your civilization," Grant said, "But I was unaware that the hatred ran so deep. What, of all things, made you show up now?"

"Your transmission," the Ardenian captain replied. "We traced it to its origin, and realized you were in the heart of Ardenian space. We launched our fleet immediately. The retaking of this space is something my people have planned for centuries. It's time we had a reckoning with them. Your actions merely precipitated the event."

"Indeed," Grant said, looking very humble before the Rowaawan woman to whom he was speaking. "I—" he chuckled at the obviousness of the misconception he was about to voice, "wasn't aware you had any ships," he finished.

The corners of the Rowaawan woman's mouth lifted up in what could only be a smile.

"In case you hadn't noticed," she said, "We've become quite skilled at concealing ourselves." In a more businesslike manner, she continued. "I must ask you to leave the area as soon as the situation permits, and return to your own space. We'll handle it from here."

"If I may ask," Grant said, nodding his compliance, "what is to become of the Ardenians?"

The Rowaawan woman paused at that, and then answered him. "I'm not really sure," she said. "We'll have to take things one step at a time."

With that, she closed the channel.

"They don't seem so bad," David commented.

"They're not," Evan said.

Several hours later, they were all sitting at a large dinner table onboard the Resolute, talking over all the loose ends, and explaining to each other the details of what had occurred.

"So this Oracle was not entirely accurate in its prediction?" David asked, attempting to understand.

"No," Evan said. "clearly not."

"It couldn't have been," Ashley pointed out. "or else what would the point of them trying to kill Grant have been?"

"Good point," said David. "I just wonder what the turning point of the timeline might have been. What changed the event sequence.

At that moment Ashley looked sharply at Grant, who had just nudged her leg under the table. She understood immediately what he was getting at, and she smiled at him. Perhaps it really was their love that had changed the story. If she hadn't cared for him so much, he would have arrived in the Emperor's hands alone, and might very well have been less determined to complete his mission without sacrificing himself. In reality, he'd had something to live for, as it were.

That story, however, was private, and they were not about to enlighten the other officers.

"I wonder how the Ardenians will fair at the hands of the Rowaawans," Evan said. "As I described earlier, there's a lot of bad blood between the two races."

"Well," Daniel said, "those transports they were launching as we left contained drones of the exact same type we discovered on Rowaawa, so it seems they aren't expecting an easy peace. On the other hand, the way that Rowaawan captain spoke about them, it doesn't sound like they're planning genocide, either. I also suppose this explains their blanket torpedo attack on us while we orbited. Those defenses were meant to hold off Ardenian fleets, not single vessels."

"I'm sure Starfleet will begin diplomatic relations with the Rowaawans, now that their existence no longer is a secret, or needs to be. They might permit us to send observers, see what happens for ourselves."

"I don't know about that," Jennifer interjected. "The Rowaawans don't exactly seem like the public type, you know?"

Evan chuckled. "Only time will tell," he said wisely. "As is true of so many things," he added, shooting another meaningful glance at Ashley, who smiled at him optimistically.

"In any case," Captain Finnardy said from the head of the table, raising his champagne glass, indicating a toast. "To fine friends, adventure, and the stars," he said, and a chorus of 'here heres' could be heard from the other officers over the clink of glasses.

After they'd finished eating, Ashley and Grant staggered to Evan's quarters, utterly exhausted after the day's adventure. Without bothering to change, they both fell into bed. Ashley curled up in Grant's arms, and the two of them slept deeply.

The next day, on the bridge of the Sovereign, Grant read his new orders from Starfleet. His senior staff watched him attentively, eager to learn what their new assignment might be.

"Well," he said finally. "It looks like I was wrong again. We're going to see Earth very soon, after all. We're to report back to Starbase One, which has been almost completely repaired, to receive repairs of our own. And maybe," he added mischievously, "just maybe, a new coat of armor," he said, hinting at the possibility of a refit.

"Mr. Hanson," Grant said, "set a course for Earth, warp five."

"Course laid in, sir," Hanson reported, a broad smile on his face as he turned to face the captain, waiting for the order.

The entire bridge crew watched as Evan smiled, and said, "Engage!"

The Sovereign leapt forward, at last concluding one of her most arduous adventures, and beginning, Evan was sure, yet another. Whatever the future held, she was on her way.

**The events and characters of this book are works of fiction. Any resemblance to actual events or characters is purely coincidental, unless it isn't, in which case the blame resides squarely on my shoulders.**

**All copyrights and trademarks are properties of their respective owners.**

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